The Reluctant Overlord
by The Reluctant Overlord
Summary: The events of this takes place after volume 10 and before volume 11. Collection of short stories. Read about the rise of E-Rantel, the downfall of a kingdom, some NPC guardian hi-jinks, and discover the secrets hidden in the box given to the Golden Princess!
1. Chapter 1

**I'm back! I hope editing the chapters doesn't spam your mailbox. I plan to go over what I've written so I can remind myself of the story, as well as polish some of the older chapters and cleaning it up. There won't be any major changes (hopefully). I expect to start writing and finishing a new chapter on Sunday.**

 **Edit: Oh man! I ended up adding quite a few 'small' touches to scenes. I guess doing a 2nd look is important in writing (as well as getting a proof-reader)**

 **Edit 2: Was this intro chapter always this boring? Why didn't anyone comment in the reviews!**

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In a place that she could not recognize.

The screams of terror and fear pervaded the scene. A cacophony of pleading cries and abject dismay saturated the atmosphere. Fire engulfed the area while the ruins of houses and buildings that littered the scene burned with great intensity.

A blood curdling screech came from a figure in the center. It was a small, frail looking human girl. Her voice and attitude was that of a 40-year-old woman, but her voice was that of a frightened child. She wore a tattered mini-skirt and a regal purple robe that was singed at the frays.

She was Draudillion Oriculus, the granddaughter of the Brightness Dragon Lord, and Queen of the Draconic Kingdom in the south.

Her gaze was transfixed at what was occurring in the sky.

 _I've been transported to a fiery hell!_

Above her, fierce sparks flew from the two creatures who battled overhead. They exchanged breaths of fire which scorched the land. They slammed into each other with a force that shook the ground beneath them. Their wings created gusts of wind that ripped apart the roofs of nearby houses. Meanwhile, flashes of light in the form of spears alongside bursts of energy seemed to engulf the night as the skies lit up around the two warring behemoths.

 _Incredible!_

 _They were using magic as well!_

The Dragon Queen knew that only high level dragons were capable of using spells.

The girl took a closer look at the creatures.

The smaller one was covered in bright metallic colored scales. It was swift and seemed to command an impressive arsenal of offensive magic. It flew with remarkable agility and launched columns of blue flame from its maw. Ethereal spears that seemed to be made of pure light seemed to encircle the being and shot at the larger creature.

Somehow, the dragon felt familiar to her.

A spark of recognition.

 _Platinum Dragon Lord?_

 _Yes, it has to be!_

 _But, who was this other creature he was fighting?_

The other creature was one that truly deserved the title of behemoth. It was a massive monstrosity that rose up like a black, crag covered mountain of obsidian scales and hide. It was at least twice the size of the Platinum Dragon Lord. A white stripe ran across its back, while grey spikes protruded from its back. The mighty black wyrm had sharp, piercing grey eyes that shone with frightening malevolence.

Draudillion Oriculus frowned.

She did not recognize the other creature.

It did not seem to be utilizing magic like its other counterpart.

 _Was it unable to?_

However, deep inside, the Dragon Queen felt that perhaps it did not need to.

The celestial spears launched by the Platinum Dragon Lord was not able to penetrate its' opponent's tough hide, while the blue flames did not even faze the creature. It was as if the behemoth had an invisible force field surrounding it.

Draudillion watched as the spears seemed to melt upon touching the black wyrm's skin.

Suddenly, the large black dragon rushed forward in a speed that seemed disproportionate to its massive frame. The Platinum Dragon Lord narrowly avoided the blow but the shockwave forced it to make a crash landing on the ground.

The ebony black dragon then opened its maw, and a stream of fire incinerated the earth.

Reacting quickly, Platinum Dragon Lord immediately enacted defensive barriers, but was unable to escape unscathed. Injured, it limped on the ground while cautiously observing the larger beast.

 _Who could have outclassed the Platinum Dragon Lord by this much?_

 _Was the black dragon the foretold Catastrophe Dragon Lord?_

The Dragon Queen furrowed her brow.

 _The timing fits._

 _The girl was certain that the chrome dragon was indeed the legendary Platinum Dragon Lord, one of the strongest and wisest beings in the world. Therefore, the only ones who could match its strength would be the other four dragon councilors of the Agrand Council Alliance. But.. to be outclassed by this much.._

 _There was only one other dragon._

 _It could only be the Catastrophe Dragon Lord_

However, something felt odd. The girl did not sense the aura of terror or despair that she would have expected to accompany a being known as the 'Catastrophe Dragon Lord'. In fact, she felt an aura of honor and dignity from the gigantic creature.

But there was also an unmistakable sensation emanating from the obsidian black dragon.

It was anger.

The discordance was not lost on her.

Like a beast provoked, she did not feel the large black dragon was inherently evil. Rather, something else was driving its current actions.

She could not understand it. Who would provoke such a fearsome creature? Is it truly the fabled Catastrophe Dragon Lord? Can a creature capable of dominating one of the strongest members of the Dragon Lord council truly exist?

...

Then she woke up.

Sweat covered her lithe frame as she panted heavily.

It would be several long minutes before she had sufficiently calmed down enough to assess the situation.

She immediately looked around her. After confirming that she was, indeed, still in the royal chambers of the Draconic Kingdom, she began to analyze the events that had transpired.

As a person who possessed 1/8th of a dragon lords blood, she was one of the few people in this world who was gifted with the ability of 'Wild Magic'. It was one of the few innate magical skills in the world that had not been corrupted by the advent of 'Player Beings' from Yggdrasil. One of these abilities was the gift of foresight.

However, it was not as useful as it sounded. The premonitions were uncontrollable, and were often merely a representation of the flow of emotions at the scene. For instance, a human who had a fear of insects might see a hellish massive beast although the true foe was merely a cockroach crawling in her kitchen. A copper ranked adventurer might be granted a vision of a goblin attack which represented itself as a legion of death, while an adamantine adventurer would merely be granted a vision of ants invading a village.

In general, the premonitions were not very useful. After all, future-sight would have been absolutely broken skill if there was no drawback.

If someone had tried to poison her, it would be difficult to detect unless she was also granted the vision where the culprit was there, and if the culprit's emotions and intent was strong.

Still, what she had witnessed frightened her.

While her physical combat strength was only equivalent to that of a regular human, she was still a user of Wild Magic and known as the Black Scale Dragon Lord, the Queen of the Draconic Kingdom.

To have induced such fear and terror in her was an impressive feat.

She was also perplexed by the intimidating black dragon.

She could not sense true wickedness or cruelty from the creature.

She only felt anger.

 _I wonder what could have provoked such a terrifying monster._

..

…

…

…

…

...

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Meanwhile, in Nazarick.

A young girl wearing a maid uniform was humming while pouring a fragrant thick soup into a bowl. She had long blonde hair and a fair complexion. She was not very pretty, and her voice was soft and meek, but she possessed an adorable charm.

She placed the bowl of stew on top of a silver tray, and then excitedly salted it to taste. It was not an extravagant dish. It was just a simple home cooked meal. However, this time, the young girl had added garnishing in an attempt to beautify the dish.

She smiled as she eagerly carried the tray to the next room, wondering what her savior would say when he saw how she had improved in her cooking talents.

* * *

...

If someone visited the city of E-Rantel, they would be mesmerized by the surreal sight of beings which can only be described as evil incarnate plowing the fields and pulling carriages like a common work mule.

Prior to the forceful occupation by the Sorcerer King, the fortress city of E-Rantel was originally the domain of the Re-Estize kingdom. Conveniently situated at the border of the Baharuth Empire and the Slane Theocracy, it was known for having the largest concentration of pharmacists in the kingdom as well as being an impromptu base for lodgings for the Re-Estize Kingdom's makeshift army.

However, at the moment, one would not be wrong to call E-Rantel a ghost town.

The upper echelons of the community had long abandoned the city.

Anyone with money, influence, or family in the capital had long departed the city when news of the massacre at Katze Plains was brought to light. The only ones remaining were the destitute, the poor, the farmers whose livelihood depended on the land, the craftsmen who were too old or too proud to re-apprentice themselves in the capital, and the adventurers and citizens who were loyal to Momon the Dark hero and could not face the shame of deserting their hero who had sacrificed his freedom to ensure the peace of E-Rantel.

Even the folks who remained began to adopt an undead like aura as they trudged along the dirt roads with bloodshot eyes with deep dark circles, gaunt faces, and the gait of a man who had been cast into a fiendish nightmare.

If you did not know better, you would have assumed that everyone had been replaced by zombies.

But who could blame them? After all, they now live, eat, and sleep next to monstrous abominations that many of them have only heard of in ghost stories and tavern tales.

Yet they carried on, for their savior Momon the Dark Hero was still a resident for E-Rantel, and they with that the flames of hope and salvation still flickered in their eyes.

Without that hope, they would have given up on life months ago.

Fortunately, this feeling of abject depression was not shared by all residents of E-Rantel.

...

Moknach was born and raised in the city and thus he knew many of the current and former residents. He had a stereotypical local swagger and pride that one would only achieve from fully embracing the life and heart of the city. He was a child of E-Rantel in every sense of the word. As such, he was deeply affected when his beloved home was forcibly occupied by the undead Sorcerer King. For days, he had cursed and raged.

Would he abandon his precious home and his hero Momon, or could he tolerate living under the rule of a genocidal undead tyrant?

Yet Moknach, a mythril class adventurer and proud leader of Rainbow, seemed to move with a vigor that almost radiated an aura of youth and joy when he walked pass the demonic entities that were currently patrolling E-Rantel.

This was because only a few days ago, he was addressed by name by the new ruler of E-Rantel and was given insight on what kind of future was in store for the residents of the city.

Even now, he held his head up high and proudly displayed his mythril adventurer necklace as he went to look for other adventurers to share the news with. His teammates in "Rainbow" was already aware of the events that had transpired, and had initially thought that their guild leader had been charmed by a spell. However, when a day had passed and no evidence of trickery had been revealed, they begrudgingly began to accept that perhaps the might be some truth in what Moknach was saying. The fact remained that so far, despite all that had happened, they could not honestly say that they were worse for wear from when the Sorcerer King took control of the city. Still, Ains Ooal Gown was still a being who mercilessly slaughtered 100,000 men in the battle of Katse Plains, and they would need more proof if they were to genuinely accept that this god-like undead lich was not the harbinger of death and despair.

As Moknach gleefully strolled past the temple, two hooded figure wearing silver adventurer necklaces eyed him with disdain.

…

The goal of their journey should have been simple enough, but events had taken a sour turn since they sent out from the Slane Theocracy. It all started with a summons from none other than Bishop of the Windflower Scripture. Jakarn and Olga were initially assigned to chasing after Clementine, the traitor who stole the Crown of Wisdom from the Miko Princess. However, with the current developments in hand, they had been reassigned to monitor the events preceding the battle in Katse Plains.

" _Hmph.. if you could even call it a battle"_ thought Jakarn.

Jakarn was a hulking figure of a crusader. He stood like a fortress, girded for war. When participating in the holy wars of the Slane Theocracy, he would have been equipped with an impressive set of full heavy armor, complete with a thick wood-and-iron shield, more than half his height, which bore on its face the carved head of a mighty dragon being struck down, along with a great helm tucked underneath his left arm, and in that hand a massive two handed flail with the symbol of the Slane Theocracy, an intricate candle with six lights and a holy wreath, emblazoned on a tabard across his barrel chest.

But today he wore an unassuming brown cloak.

He was a member of the Windflower Scripture, a sect of the Slane Theocracy that specialized in information gathering and secrecy, and while he sported an impressive physique, he was actually more known for his intelligence, cunning, and powers of observation. The foreboding stature was only a ruse to conceal his true talent. He did not regret his transfer into the espionage branch of the Slane Theocracy army.

The silver adventurer guild tags that they looted off their prey were his idea. With it, both he and Olga were able to blend seamlessly with the city. It might have been difficult if the city was not in such a disarray when the Sorcerer King took control, but at the moment, the citizens of E-Rantel had much direr things to be concerned about than two mysterious silver ranked adventurers.

Olga, on the other hand, was a young slender female who had been indoctrinated by the Temple of the Four Great Gods as soon as her talents for espionage had been discovered. The Slane Theocracy kept a strict log of all births and had specific squads identify talented individuals to be trained in service to their country's holy dogma. Although she had been trained by the Windflower Scripture, she was ultimately assigned to the punishment squad of the temple; sworn to uphold the rules and practices of the temple and to mercilessly hunt down any apostate priests who threatened their beliefs.

The "Boogeymen" of the Temple.

Olga sneered at her surroundings from underneath her hood. E-Rantel was far from the the peaceful paradise that Jirniv Rune Farlord El Nix had blurted during their encounter at the arena at the arena.

She began to recall the words she had heard the Blood Emperor say while he was in the audience box in the arena.

"Please allow me to say one thing. That fellow's cunning surpasses mine. These developments might well be his doing.. While I know I would not believe that so easily if I were in your shoes… I truly did not sell you out. And while you might not believe this either, as a human being I wish to tell you one thing. The Sorcerer King's reign is very merciful. The people of E-Rantel still live in peace".

 _What utter garbage_

Yes, she was there. Both she and another were sent as bodyguards for the bishops of the Slane Theocracy to meet with Jirniv Rune Farlord El Nix, the Emperor of the Baharuth Empire.

The fear of the citizens of E-Rantel was palpable. Sure, the city could be considered 'peaceful'. There was no crime, no more muggings or violent confrontations. Even the bar fights that the infamous inn where copper and iron plate adventurers gathered to wet their feet and form parties have been reduced to timid children who meekly sipped on their beverages and gazed downwards at their feet.

It was not simply the presence of terrifyingly strong Death Knights patrolling the streets, nor the fact that their new ruler was able to wipe out humanity if he so wishes, but rather the fear was primarily brought upon by one principle: Uncertainty

Uncertainty. Something that is uncertain or that causes one to feel uncertain. Doubt. Apprehension. Precariousness. Unpredictability. Unreliability. Suspicion. Misgivings. Fear

What did the future hold in store for them? They were no more quests. Death Knights and Soul Eaters exterminated all monsters and threats that would come their way. Each undead creature capable of feats even a hundred of them would struggle with. The adventurer's request board has been empty since the occupation of E-Rantel.

Olga also recalled Jirnix Rune Farlord El Nix mention about the wealth of Nazarick, yet she saw no evidence of this wealth being distributed to the city.

 _It seems even the undead were reluctant to part with worldly treasures like gold and jewelry._

"Look at them. Cowards. This city is slowly turning into a true city of undead" said Olga as she witnessed the listless movements of the residents of E-Rantel pass her by. Then she caught sight of Moknach, the leader of Rainbow, and intense rage flared across her eyes.

"I can't believe that disgusting maggot was trying to convince us that the Sorcerer King was looking out for adventurers. The encounter with the Sorcerer King must have addled his mind. We should eliminate him before he shames his race any further". She spat.

This drew a sharp reprimanding gaze from Jakarn.

In all honesty, he did not share the religious fever and hatred against the undead like his partner Olga. He was logical. He was cunning. He valued the supremacy of humanity, but recognized the talents and merits of the other races as well as their uses.

Olga recognized her partner's disappointment.

"It seems that I may have been too emotional. If that undead creature is truly as the rumors say he is, we cannot discard the possibility that this all might be part of his plan".

Olga lowered her head.

She was not an evil person despite her ferocious zealotry. The Temple war a variant faith that worships an alternative form of the Six Great Gods of the Slane Theocracy. To be exact, they recognized only Four Great Gods. Their faith is mostly found in the northern nations of the New World, and their temples serve as the modern world's equivalent of hospitals and clinics. They have a sworn duty to fight against the undead and specialize in using holy magic for healing and exorcising.

They rarely involved themselves in politics. Even now, the official stance of the temples has not been announced to the public. They were in a precarious position. In face of such overwhelming power, they would surely be inviting death if they openly declared war on Ains Ooal Gown, the sorcerer king who was able to use super tier spells.

Yes, even the existence of 11th tier spells were known to her and the temples inner circle. The Black Scripture of the Slane Theocracy had a close relationship with the inner circles of the Temple of the Four Gods, as they shared very similar beliefs and principals. Even so, she frowned when she heard that Thousand Miles Astrologer had confined herself to her room after witnessing this spectacle by the Sorcerer King.

All the apostates she had assassinated had one thing in common. They threatened one of the tenets of their faith. They were caretakers of the health and spiritual well-being of society, and healing and management of the undead fell under their purview. Unfortunately, even well-meaning individuals who pitied the demi-human slaves or freely provided healing magic risked destabilizing the entire institution. After all, in order for the temples to provide benefits to the people without becoming controlled by politics, the only source of income they could receive would be from the people. A contemporary equivalent would be stealing pharmaceutical secrets and distribute them to the public without realizing that the action would effectively bankrupt the company, leading to the loss of thousands of jobs and the potential of further development into medicine.

Both Olga and Jakarn were here for several reasons.

Firstly, they were to observe the situation in E-Rantel themselves. They could no longer trust rumors which could easily be influenced by illusion magic. Furthermore, they were unaware of the extent to which this Undead Sorcerer King has infiltrated their ranks, nor his magical capabilities in modifying memory or manipulating the contents of 'message'. As such, both of them were equipped with numerous magical items that granted mental fortitude and a resistance against illusion magic, and magical charming/mind control.

Secondly, they were to meet with the Dark Hero Momon to delineate his intentions, and if they truly lost one of the last bastions of humanity to the Sorcerer King.

Lastly, they were to disrupt any sinister plans the Sorcerer King surely had for the pitiful humans of his realm, and to see if there was any viability in inciting an upheaval by the citizens of E-Rantel against their current ruler.

As far as she was concerned, the citizens of E-Rantel condemned themselves to this surreal hell the moment they decided to cower beneath Ains Ooal Gown. She could understand their reasoning though. In fact, even the temple has not dared to openly defy the Sorcerer King. Still, she could not help feel hate for the weak and cowardly beings who submissively accepted the rule of an undead genocidal tyrant without any fight whatsoever.

Both she and Jakarn could be said to be on the level of at least Orihalcum adventurers despite the pitiful silver tags they wore on their necks. It pained her that Clementine was able to elude them for so long, but then again, she was a member of the Black Scripture.

Fortunately, everything regarding the infiltration of E-Rantel seemed to be going well for Jakarn and Olga. They had expected a very rigorous anti-espionage measures in the city immediately after the Sorcerer King announced his victory at Katse Plains. However, it was laughably easy for Olga to sneak in after her meeting with the Emperor Jirnix Rune Farlord El Nix. Through sheer coincidence, they had stationed Jakarn in E-Rantel for almost a year before the existence of Ains Ooal Gown was known, and it was he that suggested that Olga join him in his mission. In the next few weeks, they had planned on bringing larger groups into the city. However, they first had to thoroughly scout E-Rantel before recklessly stationing the rest of their members into the heart of the enemy realm.

"It is about time." Jakarn said.

Olga nodded.

They could almost feel the rumbling of large swathes of earth and soil being moved some distance away.

They had been spying on a dark elf child with a blue dragon scale leather full body suit covered with a white and gold vest and a matching short white skirt exposing his thighs wielding a twisted black wooden staff some distance away who seemed to be commanding a mind boggling number of legendary stone golems digging a large tunnel in the Great Forest of Tob.

It was easy to discern what they were planning on building. There was only one reason someone needed such a large crater and dig up this much earth.

It was going to be a mass grave.

Something was going to happen soon in E-Rantel, and they will gather proof and expose the sinister plots of the Sorcerer King, Ains Ooal Gown, to the New World.

…

…

…

Mare looked at the scene in front of him. Progress was going faster than expected. He had a shy and cowardly personality, but in front of these silent stone golems, he was comfortable.

"Um.. can you cut down those ..trees and- stack them over there.."

One of the golems immediately broke off from the group and began moving towards the trees that bordered the giant crater.

Mare was almost finished with the initial excavation of the tunnel.

While outsiders only saw a gigantic hole in the ground, in actuality, this was the entrance of an extensive cave system that extended hundreds of meters underground. Fortunately, the strong roots of the Great Forest of Tob meant that the soil underneath was densely packed and held strongly against the roots of the trees. This meant that if Mare could find or cut a path amidst the tightly held earth in the tangle of roots, there was little fear of a cave in.

However, it would still be a while before everything was completed.

The homunculi maids in Nazarick were already in the process of preparing several hundred hand crafted lamps for the cave. The elder liches were imbuing their magic into crystals purchased by Sebas-tian in the Baharuth Empire to sustain the lanterns. Golems were busy harvesting granite to be used as floor tiles.

The dungeon that Ainz-sama wanted built for training his new true 'adventurers'.

Mare instinctively caressed his empty ring finger on his right hand. Naturally, he did not dare bring the ring of Nazarick out in the open where it might be stolen. It was currently being kept by Shalltear, who was often confined in Nazarick due to the her limited utility in outside missions due to her Bloodlust penalty.

However, as Mare did so, he felt renewed vigor in continuing his work of overseeing the creation of the dungeon.

"Just…wait and see.. Ainz..sama.. Big Sis Aura..". He then extended both his arms wide and made a "V" sign.

..

…

...

Ains Ooal Gown sneezed for the first time ever since coming to the New World.

For some reason, the image of a prepubescent boy who was eager to sit on his lap appeared in his mind.

...

"Bukubukuchagama-aaaaaa!"

…

…

…

…

Meanwhile, far away from E-Rantel, in the Re-Estize Kingdom, the human nation of a population of nearly nine million, and a nation currently in intense political and civil turmoil, the two most beautiful ladies in the kingdom were meeting in a small but lavishly decorated room. The scene radiated an eerie aura of deja vu.

There was no better adjective that could describe the two. The only thing that came to mind was "world class beauty". One of them had a dark-tinged, bewitching beauty. Her perfect features were more beautiful than any peasant, more beautiful than any lady of the nights in the Kingdom's brothels. Her clothing was a platinum dress accentuated with golden hair ornaments while the lower half of her dress was covered by what seemed to be like black feathered wings. Her reflection in the magical lights above made it seem like she was glowing.

The other was a radiant beauty. A princess possessing blinding beauty with an aura would make anyone who saw her think of a saint. Her glowing golden locks rested upon delicate shoulders, and her eyes emitted a maternal compassion and innocence that aptly embodied the title she held; the Golden Princess.

An intricate, reflective box sat on the marble table. It had elegant golden trimming around the edges and sharp, sophisticated black onyx markings formed a gothic like web across all surfaces of the box except for the lid. In place of an opening, there was only a ruby red flawless surface like a maw of an ancient undersea bottom feeder. There was no apparent hinges or keyhole. Just an eerie crimson reflective surface that gave the impression of a sanguine mirror. It was a box that bore several layers of seals. It was impossible to open without fulfilling specific conditions.

As the girl accepted it with gratitude, Albedo watched her with a cold gaze, as though the girl were little more than a guinea pig. Indeed, she was a guinea pig. But because of that, both sides shared the same goals.

"You have my deepest gratitude. Please convey my thanks to His Majesty, Ainz Ooal Gown-sama".

"That I promise you. I trust I need not waste words on the other item you want?".

"Of course. I shall receive that boon once I have delivered the appropriate recompense. There is nothing more delightful than that".

The girl smiled. It was a very lovely smile. It was not the smile that a person who had betrayed her family, her bloodline, and her people should have. Yet there was not a shred of regret on her face. She was human, yet inhuman. She was the type who was not bound by the petty constraints of morality, but who quietly worked to advanced her own agenda.

But there was one thing that she cared for. Her puppy. Her Climb. If she could bind him in chains and shackle him to her, she would do so in a heartbeat. His unrequited devotion was all she needed to sustain herself.

"Although opening that box can fulfil your wish, can you really open it?"

That meeting happened several days ago.

Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself gazed at the box once more. Again, her intellectual prowess was something only matched by a few being in the continent. One of them had been in front of her. The other was a frog demon garbed in an exotic garment occasionally seen in the South.

Every move of hers has been carefully calculated. Every action she has taken had been with a purpose. From the innocent charade that enabled her to easily manipulate the maids in the employ, to the way she pushed for reforms for the common folk, to her slow but steady manipulation of her brother and the Marquis, and the unexpected release of the Eight Finger captives.

Even the initial meeting with the seventh floor guardian of Nazarick could be said to have been within the range of her calculations. However, the power of Ains Ooal Gown surpassed even her wildest imaginations. Furthermore, the being known as Demiurge could almost be said an equal to her intellect, and she was pleasantly surprised that she had someone who could understand her so well.

If one truly appreciated the monster that was Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself, then they would have recalled a specific scene that happened right before the succubus described as the beauty of the bewitching moon incarnate visited the unsuspecting Kingdom of Re-Estize.

...

...

"Ara, do you have a natural talent too, Evileye-san?"

"Could you tell me what kind of talent it is?"

Evileye leaned her body forward, and Renner—her face a picture of excitement- leaned forward as well.

...

" AS IF I'D GO AROUND BLABBING IMPORTANT THINGS LIKE THAT TO OTHERS!"

…

As Renner thought back to that surprising moment that made her leap into the arms of Climb, the one person she wished she could capture eternally, both in body and soul, a smile flashed across her face.

That smile was reflected on the sanguine red surface of the box that sat on the marble table.

Whether it was just the flickering of light, or simply the imagination of the shadow demons that were sent to observe and guard Renner, one could almost have sworn that fangs were visible in that smile.

"Landfall.. a legendary vampire lord whose transformation destroyed a kingdom and was killed by the Thirteen Heroes".

Again, Renner smiled. And this time, it was unmistakable to all.

…

…

Back in the Great Tomb of Nazarick, another nostalgic scene emerged as both Demiurge and Albedo discussed the vassalage of the Empire to the Sorcerous Kingdom.

"What's this? According to my predictions, the Empire should only have offered to be vassals after the Kingdom was destroyed…"

"This is the result of Ainz-sama's visit to the Empire"

"This is.. As expected of Ainz-sama.."

"Say, Demiurge. Did you really think that the Empire would only become a vassal after the Kingdom would?"

"Of course. That was how I planned it"

Both Demiurge and Albedo fell silent as they both thought of their trump card in the Re-Estize Kingdom.

"Well, Ainz-sama has graciously left the issue pertaining to the vassalage of the Kingdom to us. Let us see how our little golden puppet performs."

They both had a sinister grin on their faces.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm back! I hope editing the chapters doesn't spam your mailbox. I plan to go over what I've written so I can remind myself of the story, as well as polish some of the older chapters and cleaning it up. There won't be any major changes (hopefully). I expect to start writing and finishing a new chapter on Sunday.**

 **Edit: Again! I ended up adding quite a few 'small' touches to scenes. I guess doing a 2nd look is important in writing (as well as getting a proof-reader)**

 **Edit 2: I highly recommend everyone to only read wordy blocks of texts on a tablet/ipad/etc. Revising on my desktop has been a nightmare to my eyes.**

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Chapter 2:

Zanac Varleon Igana Ryle Vaiself gazed outside the tower of the castle in the Re-Estize Kingdom. His eyes were sunken, blood-shot, and unfocused from the lack of sleep. He was wearing the same clothing he wore the day before. This was usually unacceptable for the typically meticulous and newly crowned prince. However, this was not a 'usual' day.

His hair was disheveled and his skin was pale. There was a gnawing pain in his stomach, but it was not from hunger. The appetizing breakfast that was elegantly spread across the table was left untouched. In fact, the citrus tinged aroma of fruit and savory scent of buttered toast was nauseating.

The crown prince of the Re-Estize Kingdom was under an enormous amount of stress.

His saliva was bitter, and there was a heavy weight on his chest.

Due to the one-sided massacre at Katse Plains, the general populace of the Kingdom was thoroughly shaken. Faint tremors of civil unrest could be felt rippling across the capital. Both the noble and the royal faction was in disarray.

While many nobles were abusive and arrogant, they were also the pillars stones of leadership and authority. Due to the sheer amount of casualties during the war against the Sorcerer Kingdom, there were now vacant positions in the hierarchy. Inexperienced second or third sons subsequently rose to power to fill in the gaps. Naturally, they were utterly incompetent. Some of them were humbled by the life of a peasant and were too liberal in the distribution of wealth in their county. Others were drunk with the sudden power and gold that unexpectedly fell into their laps and proceeded to throw lavish parties and purchase extravagant gifts with no regard for the long term consequences. Frankly, many were simply unable to cope with the responsibilities of leadership.

The gaps in the hierarchy also lead to chaos. This is the reason why some people tolerate dictatorships in poor countries and never rise up to revolt. Sometimes the harsh but regulated life in a totalitarian system was preferable to the instability and chaos that follows a coup d'état.

When the body of his brother, the original crown prince, Barbro Andrean Ield Ryle Vaiself was brought back to the capital, his father, the King, fell into deep despair. Barbro's body was mangled beyond recognition. It was as if a ferocious beast had torn into him. There were also signs that the beast may have been toying with him prior to feasting upon his entrails. If it was not for the ring which bore the royal insignia of the Re-Estize Kingdom, they would have not known it was his body.

What was also shocking was the carnage that surrounded the former Crown prince's body. There were almost a thousand dead soldiers. A vast majority of them bore signs of being mauled by a savage beast. Bodies were cast haphazardly through the field like discarded dolls, their lifeless eyes gazing in all directions.

 _However, the most concerning was that there are still several hundred bodies that were unaccounted for._

The militiamen who found the body were so frightened that they only managed to bring back the body of the former crown prince before fleeing the scene.

 _Ideally, we would have liked to investigate further, but the territory now belonged to an immensely powerful undead ruler with the capability to slaughter a hundred thousand men with a single spell._

Zanac was born as the second son of King Laponsa III of the Re-Estize Kingdom. He had initially thought that his coronation as the new crown prince would have been the happiest moment of his life. However, considering the circumstances, he had just inherited what was essentially a doomed kingdom. Furthermore, everything that occurs after this would be blamed on his leadership.

His father, King Lanposa III, was an excellent monarch. While he was not on par with Emperor Jinciv of the Baharuth Empire, he was a capable leader none-the-less. However, he also dearly loved his family, and the sight of his son's mangled body along with the guilt of having commanded Barbro to go to Carne village in the first place had broke him. As the King who disregarded the Warrior-Captains warnings and proceeded to the battle against the Sorcerer King which lead to the slaughter of a hundred thousand men, King Lanposa III was one of the most despised man in the capital. As such, he has all but abdicated the throne to his second born son, Zanac.

 _Marquis Raeven.. why have you forsaken me as well.._

He had now learned that once anyone wears the crown of a kingdom, be they mortal or god, an incredibly heavy burden is placed upon them. Zanac knew that he needed to find allies quickly. However, he was not adequately trained in handling such dire situations by himself. He knew there was only one person he could turn to for advice at the moment.

"Hai…" he acquiesced finally, accepting defeat.

"Guards. Summon my dear sister at once!"

…

…

…

* * *

Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself.

The Golden Princess.

Her long golden hair flowed elegantly across her shoulders and neck. Her vibrant blue eyes shined like sapphires and was filled with warmth. She wore a simple yet refined white dress, which only served to accentuate her beauty.

Knock. Knock.

The door reverberated with the impact of heavy metal gauntlets against aged wood.

"Princess. Your presence has been requested by his excellency, Prince Zanac. Please come with haste!".

"Just a moment. I will be right there!"

Renner hastily stowed away the box was placed on the table.

The door opened and a knight along with a maid entered the room.

The knight wore a finely crafted tunic and the sigil of the Royal Guard was emblazoned upon his chest piece. The maid was one of the Princess numerous attendants.

"Princess. I have been commanded to escort you to the crown prince's chambers. Would you permit us to do so?"

"Oh.. wait.. right now?

Renner quipped innocently.

"What could he want?"

"Do you think I should change?"

"Should I bring the fleece blanket that I knitted for him? Do you think he would like it?"

"-How do I look?"

"oh noes... what should I do? what should I wear?"

Renner nervously paced across the room while fanning her face.

A flash of irritation appeared across both the knight and the maid's faces, although they did not express it.

"I do not think that will be necessary. Although I do not know the reason his Excellency had for requesting your presence, he seemed to want to speak with you urgently".

"-Okay.."

Renner smiled innocently

…

…

* * *

In another place far away.

The warm, crackling fire that burned brightly on the hearth did little to sooth the chill that flowed in the veins of Marquis Raeven. He was a lanky, tall man with carefully slicked back blonde hair. His pale white skin and narrow blue eyes imparted a serpentine like visage that complemented the high quality scaled doublet that he wore. Small jewels were sewn into his clothes and the edges were laced with golden thread. It was plain to all that this was the image of a man who was both a ruthless and a cunning politician.

Once a close confidant of the King and the current crown prince, Marquis Raeven was known as a fierce tactician, a dilligent opportunist, and was infamously known for playing on both sides of the political battle between the Patricians and Loyalists. He was despised by many in the court for his shifting allegiances. Only a few people knew his true allegiance – the well-being of the Re-Estize Kingdom

He commanded the highest authority among the six great Noble Houses. It was through his actions that the Kingdom did not descend into civil turmoil many years ago during the constant battles against the empire. In the past, he had once aimed for the throne. However, this changed after the birth of his son. Everything he has done so far, he had done to sure a better life for his family. He was a true patriot, and a dedicated father.

Yet everything seemed to be falling apart.

They had grossly underestimated the cruelty and malice of the Sorcerer King.

Many corpses now littered Katse Plains. It was now a mass grave dedicated to the folly of the Re-Estize Kingdom.

 _How did it come to this? Was everything I worked so hard for in the last decade in vain?_

Out of habit, he went to check on his son's room to see if everything was alright.

He was sleeping soundlessly. The picture of innocence. Colorful hand-drawn pictures decorated the walls in the room. Toys were stacked neatly in the corner. His blanket, hand crafted by his loving mother, was held tightly in his arms as he slept curled on the bed.

Tears rolled down Marquis Raeven's eyes.

It was a heartbreaking sight.

Steeling himself, he walked back to the study.

It was no longer the stride of a defeated man.

It was the march of a man who had found his purpose renewed.

A radiant, resplendent warmth pervaded the Marquis's core, washed out over his limbs, and infused him with a paternal holy light.

 _Alright. Think. The Sorcerer King is powerful beyond measure. There were already rumors that the Empire had pledged themselves as a vassal state. There was no guarantee that Ainz Ooal Gown would not set his sights on the Kingdom as well. No, in fact, it would be unusual if he did not._

The Marquis needed a safe haven to ensure the well-being of his family.

News of how E-Rantel was now populated with the undead had already reached his ears. Stories of gruesome death knights and ghastly soul eaters patrolling the streets were terrifying to listen to, and even harder to accept. Truly, it was a macabre future if the Sorcerer King decided to invade the Re-Estize Kingdom.

 _Who can provide refuge for his family with the current political climate?_

 _The Republic? – they would never break their isolationist policies for one lowly noble._

 _The Holy Kingdom? – undoubtedly, they will fight the occupation by an undead lich with religious ferocity. However, he did not want his family involved in a long and bloody holy war._

 _The Elven Kingdom? – They were currently at war with the humans in the Slane Theoracy._

 _The Dwarves? – The Marquis did not know enough about them to trust the safety and well-being of his family to them_

 _The Slane Theocracy? They had been secretly seeding civil unrest in the kingdom for some time now_

 _But..._

…

…

The Marquis opened the door and left the study. The two guards who were standing outside, garbed in the attire of the House of Raevan, hurried to his side as he descended the stairs down to the hall. His manor was large, but the rooms were mostly used as accommodation for visiting nobles and for the servants. The main hall was dominated by a semicircle of steps that lead up to several rooms protected by a heavy set of wooden doors. He moved with a purpose towards the second door on the left. He was heading to the library. This was where the magical scrolls were stored.

As he neared his destination, one of the guards stepped forward and opened the thick oak doors to reveal a massive and brightly lit room filled with rows and rows of leather bound books. At the center, there was a small pedestal with a stack of scrolls piled neatly on the table next to it.

Surprised by the creaking sounds of the heavy wooden doors, the elderly man who was half-asleep in the corner jolted himself awake and rushed to meet his liege, stumbling in the process.

Each one of the six great noble houses had entrenched a spell-caster from the Magicians Guild. Often times, they were stationed in the library of the manor, where the greatest congregation of knowledge was found, and was left in charge of screening dangerous magical objects, or maintaining the large number of lavish arcane objects that nobles often ended up purchasing during their travels, and of course, handling communications through the 'message function'.

Due to the great distance between many of the noble houses and the capital, the quickest way to get information across was via magical means.

However, it was also expensive, which meant only the heads of the six great houses could afford to use them on a regular basis.

"Leave me"

Both the guards and the magician were taken aback by the sudden command.

The marquis face softened.

"It's alright. I just need to send some sensitive information, and I would like there to be no prying ears".

The magician nodded in understanding. There was a reason why this room was enchanted with several layers of anti-espionage measures.

"Yes my liege"

As the Marquis heard the door close behind him, he took a deep breath and exhaled.

He then immediately banged his head on the table. He got up silently and banged again.

He continued to bang his head on the desk multiple times while muttering 'Stupid.. stupid..stupid..'

The scrolls fell to the floor.

Finally, the Marquis sat up straight and picked up one of the parchments lying on the ground.

"Message—activate!"

The air directly in front of him simmered. The colors bled into one another as if one was washing his paint brush with the air as the solvent. Blues became yellow. Greys became green. Red became white. By the end of the product, only a swirling whirlpool remained, and the sounds of an echoing tunnel was heard.

"My name is Marquis Raeven of the six noble great houses of the Kingdom of Re-Estize."

"Please, I implore you to listen to my request-

…

…

* * *

Meanwhile, in Nazarick

He had just gotten back from the Empire after beating the Martial Lord.

For the better part of an hour, Ainz Ooal Gown lay sleepless in his sweet-smelling bed, rolling restlessly from side to side. He trashed wildly, more so a reflex than an attempt to get away.

 _What should I do…_

He rolled to the right.

 _How am I supposed to run a kingdom? I didn't play any city building games!_

He rolled to the left.

 _I didn't even get to Year 1 in Sim City before I went bankrupt!_

Ainz had a habit of purchasing and building all the unnecessary infrastructure before anyone moved in and often found himself in the red right at the start in these city simulation games.

He rolled back to the center.

 _And now I have a vassal state?! What did it mean to have a vassal state anyways?_

He grew up in a society that had taken advantage of the ease of looking up information on mobile search engines. There was little need in memorizing archaic terms like these when troves of information were literally at his fingertips.

 _-If only I could look it up_

Finally, he signed and threw off the covers.

Without hesitation, the maid that stood at the corner of the room rushed to pick up the sheets. With blinding speed, she methodically folded it and placed it neatly at the edge of the bed. Immediately afterwards, she apologized profusely and bowed deeply.

"I'm sorry Ainz-sama!"

"If only this one was quicker.. Your sheets have been soiled by touching the floor! Please forgive this one for her careless mistake and inattentiveness. I am unworthy of being in your great presence!"

In truth, the floor was spotless. The maids of Nazarick paid particular attention to this room as it was the personal chambers of their Supreme Leader. Not a single fleck of dust could be seen even if one bent over to scrutinize it with a magnifying glass. Furthermore, the maid had been awake for the last 23 hours and her hawk-like eyes had never left Ainz Ooal Gown.

"Please! This one is not worthy of her station!"

She continued to genuflect while apologizing copiously.

" I will accept any punishment you deem fit! This one cannot bear that shame of failing you, Supreme One"

"-Sigh"

"It is not a big dea…"

"I mean.."

"Understood. You are forgiven. Such trivial things do not concern me. You are all assets to Nazarick, and I appreciate your dedication in keeping this place unsullied"

"Thaa… thank you Ainz-sama!"

Tears welled up in her eyes while admiration and respect washed over her.

"It will not happen again!"

…

Ainz sighed once again and proceeded towards the exit.

He had gotten used to the overly emotional maids.

Darting forward, the maid rushed past him and opened the door.

While walking past her, Ainz could see a smile on her face. It was the smile of someone who was ecstatic that they had been given a second chance to be useful and redeem themselves.

\- it was time to pick his clothes.

…

…

* * *

A few hours later, a familiar scene presented itself

…

A foreboding figure entered the room. He was dressed in a tacky and flamboyant red robe and a massive gaudy chain. A gigantic sparkling ruby in the center hung from his neck. Flashy gems were sewn into the embroidery and the frills were needlessly lacy. There was even an ascot tie.

The only thing missing was a giant clock hanging from his neck and some gold teeth.

Every occupant in the room gasped when the figure strolled in.

"Majestic!"

"As expected of Ainz-sama, simply superb! An appropriate raiment of a regal ruler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick!"

"Um… you.. look good Ainz-sama…"

"Truly, a garment befitting of a supreme one such as yourself!"

….

….

 _What? Am I truly the one with a weird taste here?_

 _Well, I guess if everyone here thinks this looks good, then I'm glad I had the maids choose my clothing._

In truth, he had no idea how a ruler, much less an undead overlord, should dress. He had peeked at Jircniv several times and noticed that flashy clothing seemed to be the trend.

"Ahem.."

"Let us begin"

Ainz opened his cabinet and took out a stack of papers. These were suggestions and opinions collected from everyone in Nazarick in order to aid the development of the Sorcerous Kingdom. These were collected anonymously so his servants would not fear repercussion and Ainz would gain additional insight on matters that were not clouded by reverence or bias.

He has even been adding his own suggestions on the papers. He had hoped that Albedo, as an impartial third party, would judge them on merits alone. Ainz had to do this because if he made those suggestions directly, his subordinates would force themselves to make them happen, even if they were impractical. This could lead to tragic consequences.

Ainz began to read the first suggestion out loud.

* * *

After about half an hour of deliberation and hijinks, Ainz frowned his non-existent eyebrows at how the scene had turned out.

Aura was sitting on his right thigh bone, and was nuzzling her head against Ainz's hand.

Albedo was enthusiastically making cooing noises and sitting on his left thigh bone.

Mare was standing uncomfortably behind him.

Incidentally, among the other Guardians, Shalltear was assigned to [Gate]-related teleportation duties and the security of Nazarick. Cocytus was in charge of the Lizardman village and its nearby lake. Demiurge, on the other hand, was on assignment to the Holy Kingdom. In other words, all the mobile guardians were now in this room.

"Ah-"

"On to the matter of the construction of the underground training dungeon for the adventurers. What is the progress on that?"

"...Um… well… you see-"

Mare shifted uncomfortably.

"We are digging as fast as we can,… but I'm not really sure what to do next"

"What do you mean Mare?"

"... I mean.. um.. after digging everything out.. where do I go from there?"

Ainz was in deep thought.

 _That's right! I didn't think about it after that._

Ainz was never a regular part of the core raiding team in the guild, but he had farmed countless dungeons during his time in Yggdrasil. However, he had absolutely no experience in actually designing and creating a dungeon.

 _Let see.. we need traps, secret doors and hidden switches. We also need treasure chests and boss monsters. Oh! And the exit should somehow lead to a hidden passage that doubles back to the beginning, so people don't have to trek all the way back to the entrance when they complete the dungeon._

Both Ainz and Pandora's Actor have been creating lower tier undead for some time now. This meant that the minion problem was settled.

"Um.. well.. I was..um thinking we could use some of the stuff in Nazarick.. I think Shalltear has a lot of things which can be useful in the dungeon.." quipped Mare in a timid voice that lacked any confidence whatsoever.

A palpable aura of rage rose from Ainz's left hand side. The room darkened.

"Youuuu… dare…..!"

Albedo snapped from her bashful act as a baby.

"Mare! How could you! How could you suggest that we use precious things bestowed from our creators in Nazarick to be used on lowly human swine! To- to take something that was placed in our floor by the supreme ones is simply desecration!"

Albedo's black wings flapped furiously. The Eight Edge assassins on the ceiling squirmed.

The force even knocked Aura from Ainz's right thigh.

"Ugh! Watch it!"

Aura had a look of intense annoyance on her face while she pouted.

Ainz raised his hand, and silence fell across the room.

"I understand your sentiment, Albedo".

"…I'M SORRY! I didn't think of it that way…"

Mare had tears in his eyes. His nose was starting to turn red and he tried hard to contain the sniffles.

"It's alright, Mare. You were only following my orders in offering a suggestion. It is my fault for not giving you any guidance on how to proceed."

"Mare. After this, let us go to the library. There might be some books that will help us on this."

 _That's right! Many of the decorative books in Yggdrasil were added by the developers for immersion purposes. Because of that, they often contained random short stories to tie into the game's lore as well short excerpts of the game's history. However, they were also some books that were filled with concept art and design choices with developer notes in order to give players some insight on the creation of the game._

"I think I got a virtual copy of the developer diary as a DLC bonus in there somewhere-"

"Um.. Ainz-sama.. what's a developer diary?" asked Mare.

"Forgive this one for her pitiful knowledge, but I also do not know of this developer diary you speak of. Please forgive this incompetent servant of yours!" shouted Albedo.

Aura was unusually silent. She was still fuming at Albedo for pushing her off Ainz's lap.

Ainz raised his hand and brushed them off.

There was only one more matter to deal with before they could adjourn the meeting.

It was a glaring issue that needed to be addressed.

"Now.. how do we attract more people to live in E-Rantel"

Since occupying the city, there have been almost no merchants who came to sell their wares. Almost all commercial activity had come to a standstill. People walked listlessly on the streets looking for work. Empty, abandoned houses littered the city. There have been almost no influx of tourist or visitors.

 _Well- that was somewhat expected -thought Ainz_

'OHHHHH!"

Albedo abruptly stood up.

However, regret immediately flashed across her face as she could no longer feel the 'warmth' of Ainz's lap.

"What is it, Albedo?"

"My Lord. Please forgive this one for her foolishness. There is something I would like to discuss with you. It is with regards to the plan for the Kingdom. Also, our servant in the Kingdom wanted me to pass a message to you"

"Is it Renner?"

Ainz was curious. He had heard much about this person, although he had not actually met her in person.

 _I wonder what kind of person she is. To have the respect of both Demiurge and Albedo was an impressive feat._

"Yes, Ainz-sama. She wanted me to extend her fealty to you as well as pass on how impressed she was that you predicted her plan and movements so well. She also wanted to voice her thanks in aiding her in furthering her goals in the name of Ainz Ooal Gown."

Suddenly, a colossal grin appeared on Albedo's face as she spoke.

"Ku..ku..ku.. To think Ainz-sama had thought so far ahead! As expected of the ruler of Nazarick!"

 _-Whattttt?_

Panic stirred in Ainz Ooal Gown. He was flabbergasted. Even the automated mood stabilizer skill failed to fully contain his surprise. Instantly, numerous scenarios and events surfaced in his head. Internally, he scrutinized each one of them, and came up with absolutely nothing.

 _What the hell? What did she mean by that? I haven't even met this girl before. The only thing I know about her is from Demiurge and Albedo._

"Ku..ku..ku.. It was such a brilliant plan. Only a master strategist such as yourself could have come up with something so sinister"

Albedo beamed with pride as she stared lovingly at her master.

Over the last few months, both she and Demiurge, along with Princess Renner, had been discussing and running through countless simulations to determine what was the most effective way to have the Kingdom cede control to Ainz Ooal Gown.

"Ku..ku..ku.. but to think Ainz-sama had already reached this conclusion and had seen this far ahead!"

Albedo practically squealed with excitement. A lustful glaze began to form in her eyes. The Eight Edge assassins on the ceiling tensed up once more.

 _-Wait!_

Eventually, Ainz calmed himself down and regained his composure. He then looked at Albedo, smiled, and inclined his neck. She then followed his gaze to the two elvish children standing on his right hand side.

Understanding what he meant, Albedo excitedly explained the plan to both Mare and Aura.

All three of them listened intensely as the Guardian Overseer outlined the strategy while Ainz strained to eavesdrop.

"Wow…!"

Mare said meekly.

"…Incredible! "

Aura blurted out exasperatedly. She was no longer pouting. Instead, her eyes were wide with amazement and respect, and her hands were clasped together to contain her excited tremoring.

Ainz screamed internally.

 _WHATTT?_

"If Ainz-sama approves, we will begin stage one of the plan" Albedo bowed deeply. Her hands were grasped tightly on her dress as she genuflected.

 _-WHATTTTTT?_

 _…_

 _…_

 _…_

Meanwhile, simultaneously, back in the royal chambers of the crown prince of the Re-Estize Kingdom where Zanac Varleon Igana Ryle Vaiself and Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself were meeting to discuss the future of the Kingdom, an identical accompanying cry followed suit.

"Whhhaaatttt!?

Screamed the crown prince as he listened to his sister's plan.


	3. Chapter 3

One week later, in the Re-Estize Kingdom

The wind whistled through the trees, whipping cold lashes against his raw face. Gaius Badenhorst hauled himself up and persevered in plowing through the fields. Years of hard manual labor had given him a sculpted physique.

No, he didn't have the body of an Abercrombie model.

Instead, he was built like a bear. He had a barrel chest, broad shoulders and a large waist with strong, well developed thighs and calves. This was not muscle developed for aesthetic reasons. It was a body honed purely for functional reasons.

Gaius Badenhorst was of common birth. He was one of the eight children born to an agricultural family. Since he was young, he was put to work tending the fields. He had witnessed several of his siblings forcibly conscripted to the army, only to not return. His mother was weak and withered well beyond her years from all the physical labor that she had to endure, and subsequently passed away last year from being malnourished and over-worked.

To add insult to injury, the crop yield was very poor this year as well.

There was not enough man power to adequately plant and harvest the crops.

 _Curse the nobles and their pointless war. Now everyone is dead, and the rest will die of starvation!_

Gaius stomped on the group angrily and spat in disgust.

He was easily the strongest man in the village. He lived under the jurisdiction of Marquis Raeven. Although he would have been a tremendous asset in the war, he was spared from conscription as he was one of the few who was familiar with crop rotations and farm irrigation. He seemed to have an innate affinity for it. Furthermore, with his prodigious strength, he was also in charge of the grain mill. There was even some speculation that his strength was born from an innate talent like the adventurers of legend.

 _If only things were different._

In truth, Gaius Badenhorst would have been an excellent adventurer. He possessed commendable combat awareness, monstrous strength, and was brave and courageous.

 _Sigh_..

He had long given up his dream of being an adventurer. He reminisced about his childhood when a hunched back elderly granny passed on her visit to the village and proceeded to beat him mercilessly in a contest of strength. However, she did impart upon him certain skills which had served him well later in life.

 _Okay. Enough nostalgia._

What he needed desperately right now was gold to help his family survive the upcoming famine.

At the moment, the village was quiet. The only sounds were those of the occasional small animals dashing through the shrubbery or the needling buzzing of insects. Faint lights inside cottages could be discerned in the distance. Gauis was far from his home. In fact, he was actually at the outskirts of town. Even in a large and populated village like his, there were very few who dared venture out at night for fear of nightly creatures. Carrion animals and wild wolves were particularly dangerous.

However, this was precisely why Gaius Badenhorst was out tonight. In other words, he was bait.

Several hundred meters away, a several corpses of the village cattle were lying on the groud. Gauis smelled it well before he laid eyes on their bloated carcasses. Large black flying insects busied themselves nesting in and feeding on the remains.

 _A pity. We can no longer afford to lose any more farm animals to this beast._

Gauis eyed the spear that was placed by his foot. It was a massive spear that was easily at least 8 ft long. The metal spearhead was crudely fashioned, but it was very sharp.

 _Damn it! How long do I have to wait in this cold? This was the fourth night now._

As if in response, a great echoing cry rumbled across the dense woodland nearby.

Without a word, Gaius picked up his spear, and looked at the direction of the beastly roar.

In the darkness, a creature appeared out of the thick foliage and into the field.

It stood at least 8 feet tall. It was a bipedal creature. It had 3 large claws on its feet and its hind legs were thick and muscular. Its body was four time the girth of a stout man. It had no arms, but a wide, flattened face with small spikes much like a triceratops. It possessed two long sharp tusks. Each of them was at least 3 feet long and were more than capable of goring a fully grown adult to death. However, that was not it's only weapon. The tusks were often covered in necrotic tissue and were a haven for diseases. A scratch could easily lead to an infected wound which would slowly wither an opponent down. Furthermore, its hide was tough and able to deflect most conventional arrows. This forced people to fight the creature in close range, where its tusks were capable of doing great damage.

Thus, their hides were very valuable and highly prized in the current warring political climate. Furthermore, something seemed to be happening in the capital and all combat armor and weapons were suddenly in high demand.

The creature was called a Kagouti. In new world terms, this monster had a difficult ranking of 26. In comparison, a hellhound had a difficulty rank of 15 and a skeletal dragon had a difficulty level of 48. In contrast, this would be equivalent to a level 8 creature in Yggdrasil.

They usually lived alone or in small groups. They gathered only in larger groups during the mating season. They were close cousins to the Alit family, and Gaius had heard that the dark elves had successfully domesticated some of them in the past for a food source.

The behemoth studied its prey with its tiny eyes that gleamed from the shadows of deep set sockets. Vein-like fissures spread across its torso and down its legs. Enormous muscles ripped underneath. After ensuring the prey was indeed alone, the creature was readying itself to pounce.

 _Looks like I'm in for one hell of a fight!_

Immediately, the beast charged forward.

Gaius's heart felt as though it might rip free of his chest. His mind threatened to unravel. He staggered backward and barely registered the spear that was gripped tightly in his hands. Ideally, it would have been preferable to have set up a trap for the beast. There was little reason for Gaius to endanger himself.

However, he had no money.

 _No, that's not exactly true.. If I really had to fork over the gold.._

In all honestly, although Gaius himself was hesitant to admit it, he was desperate for a thrill. He was reckless. He had the heart of an adventurer, but was instead confined to a meager life of a farm hand.

The animal, sensing an opportunity and unable to realize the feint, continued its reckless charge. The beast bellowed and open its jaw as it propelled itself forward.

This was not a video game. He could not afford to whittle down his opponent's health while exchanging blows. Healing items were expensive, and resurrection magic was a myth told in the fables of heroes. Pain was also a crucial factor, and any injury would diminish his fighting ability. The ability to strike a decisive blow often determined the outcome of the battle.

[Minor brutality]

[Minor savagery]

[Strengthen perception]

[Instant counter]

[Gale acceleration]

With a silent howl himself, Gaius burst into swirling dust and was gone.

The chiseled bladed struck the center of the creature's open jaw, spewing chips of bone and cranial tissue in all directions. The momentum of the creature and the sheer force of Gaius's thrust had impaled the creature and severed its neural tissue.

Sensing this, Gaius immediately let go of the spear as the creature tipped over and fell to the ground. There were still flickers of movements, but Gaius knew it was merely the involuntary reflexes of a beast who had suffered a fatal injury. Soon afterwards, the creature's hind legs stopped kicking and fell motionless. The light of life was extinguished from its eyes.

Breathing heavily, Gaius attempted to drag the mass of flesh and bone back to the village, but stopped after several meters. He was spent, and far too exhausted to haul this prize back home himself. As he had not completed his training in the Martial Arts, he was only able to use them once before reaching his bodily limit.

 _I guess I will need to get help me after all_

Eventually, 10 adult men were needed to bring the creature back to the village. All of them had a look of incredulity and disbelief on their faces.

...

...

The next day, in the domain of Marquis Raeven

Gaius woke up from his bed and was temporarily blinded. The sunlight shone effortlessly through the bedsheets which were currently being used a make shift curtains in his bedroom.

 _Time to start another day.._

He proceeded to get up from bed, and felt a sharp pain

"Ughhhhh"

He fell back in bed.

"haha…ha..haha.."

 _I guess I really went all out last night._

He spent several more minutes lying in bed before gingerly getting up again. He glanced at the sight of his body in the mirror.

There was thick black hair across his chest, back, and arms. This arms were the size of dinner plates and his palms were thick and calloused. He had a few scratches and bruises, but otherwise his body was rather pristine. It was not covered in battle scars or disfiguring injuries like many war veterans and adventurers.

Gaius nonchalantly grabbed his old tunic and fastened it with a braided frog clasp and black cotton belt. He then walked outside to finish the gruesome work.

The creature from last night was lying on a patch of dirt outside his hut. The sternum was split open and its rib cage was exposed. The organs had already been carefully removed last night. A pool of dried blood surrounded the carcass. There were liberal amounts of salt covering the creature.

 _It doesn't actually smell that bad.._ thought Gaius

He then shot a pitiful look at the patch of dirt in front of his feet. His favorite hunting knife was sticking out of the ground.

Gaius proceeded to pull it out of the earth, and noted its blunt edges.

 _The hide is pretty tough.. eh_

He and the villagers had spent all night trying to skin the behemoth, but its natural hide proved surprisingly resilient to conventional tools. As a result, they had to abandon their work early and were planning to trying again the next day once the blacksmith shop opened.

Gaius started walking to the village's center where all the craftsmen were located as well as the manor of the Marquis.

On his way there, he noticed a commotion and a congregation of people at the village's local bulletin board. Curious, he made his way to the signboard to determine the cause of the discomposure.

His eyes widened with surprised, and was immediately followed by a large frown.

There was a several large posters nailed to the board.


	4. Chapter 4

Attention: All interested warriors

[MARTIAL ARTS TOURNAMENT]

Description: The Kingdom of Re-Estize, in conjunction with the Sorcerous Kingdom, will be hosting a martial arts tournament. The purpose of the tournament is to determine who the strongest warrior amongst the three nations and to foster trade and diplomatic relations between the Re-Estize Kingdom and the newly recognized Sorcerous Kingdom, as well as celebrate the upcoming integration of the Baharuth Empire.

Method: Contestants will be screened and the top 48 challengers will be divided into 4 groups to compete in a 12-man battle royale, and the two remaining challengers in each group will proceed to a standard 8-man elimination tournament.

Rules: The tournament is open to all contestants who are residents of the Baharuth Empire, the Sorcerous Kingdom, and the Re-Estize Kingdom. As this is a martial arts tournament, there will be no magic allowed during the fights. Any magical preparatory work must be done before the match, but magical items are allowed. There is no entry fee.

Rewards:

1st place: The victor will receive the title of Warrior-Captain and will be awarded land and a title of nobility from both the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Sorcerous Kingdom. There will also be monetary compensation and the estimated total value of gold and land will be equivalent to 50,000 gold pieces.

2nd place: 15,000 gold pieces

3-4th place: 10,000 gold pieces

4-8th place: 5000 gold pieces

Consolation prize to the top 50 contestants: 100 gold

Undead beings will not be allowed to participate in this tournament.

The tournament will take place in two months' time in E-Rantel.

Any interested applicants are advised to apply at any embassy in the Sorcerous Kingdom, the Baharuth Empire, and the Re-Estize Kingdom.

Merchants are recommended to contact the embassy as well to reserve locations and to obtain permits. Taxes will be collected as per the Sorcerous Kingdom's policy.

* * *

Gaius stared at the poster.

Once again, he frowned and furrowed his eye brows.

There was one glaring problem.

He could not read it.

With a big scowl, he walked away.

After all, he was just a simple farm-hand.

The literacy rate for commoners in the kingdom was about 20% at best.

On his way back, Gauis brushed past two people standing in the center.

"Sorry!"

They ignored him, and continued to stare intently at the signboard. One of them was a massively built man similar to Gaius. The other was a lithe young woman who radiated a dangerous aura. Both of them wore heavy cloaks which hid their faces. However, in that brief moment, Gaius caught sight of a pair of silver adventurer tags hanging from their necks.

…

…


	5. Chapter 5

The ripples of the declaration cascaded across the new world.

In the Baharuth Empire…

The Blood Emperor, Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix clutched at his head.

"Damn you Ainz Ooal Gown! Why must your intellect surpass me so? Does your cunning and deceit know no bounds?!"

Emperor Jircniv was visibly upset and seething in rage. Delicate porcelain cups were lying in shattered pieces on the marble floor along with an upturned silver tea tray. Tea was spilled and the fragrant aroma of gently charred chamomile tea wafted in the air.

Beside him, Baziwood Peshmel, the current acting leader of the Four Imperial Knights of the Baharuth Empire and one of the strongest warriors in the country, was frowning in disapproval.

"But your Majesty, why would he specifically disallow magic to be used in the tournament? Wouldn't that put him at a disadvantage? Does he not plan to use his own subordinates to win?

Jircniv screamed.

"Don't you see. This must be why he fought the Martial Lord as well! It was so he could deprave us of our mightiest champion and subvert him to his own agenda!"

 _I was right! Everything this god-like being does, he does with purpose and intention. No wonder he picked the arena of all places. To think there was even a secondary reason for his actions that day!_

"Baziwood! Gather our strongest fighters! Tell them that in addition to the prize money awarded by the Sorcerous Kingdom, we will also bestow a title of nobility to any Empire citizen who manages to win in the tournament."

 _Damn it! If only Silver Canary was still here_

The Blood Emperor was in a very precarious position right now. By offering the Empire as a vassal state to the Sorcerer Kingdom, he had shown tremendous weakness to the Temples, the nobles and the people of the capital. Their faith in the strength of the Empire is dwindling. He needed something to rekindle the national pride, and having a victor in this tournament will raise the standing of the Baharuth Empire in the eyes of its citizens and in the face of the other nations.

"I will do as you command, your Majesty"

…

…

* * *

In the Re-Estize Kingdom,

The inn was packed with people chattering excitedly at the new developments. This was a welcome sight to the dark, tense atmosphere that pervaded the bar in the last few months. The waitresses were bustling back and forth from the kitchen carrying large trays of hearty stew and gigantic mugs of ale and mead. Despite the late hour, the inn was bustling with excitement and commotion.

At the corner, in a small private room tucked away from the rambunctious crowd, sat five adventurers.

A massive, muscular hulk sat in the center. She emitted a profound atmosphere of strength and courage. Even without her weapon Fel Iron, a massive war pick which weighed almost as much as a fully grown man and forged with powerful runes and was rumored to be able to imitate a small earthquake with each blow, or her infamous armor Gaze Bane, a maroon colored full plate mail with an eye like decoration around the chest and which had an innate ability to accelerate the healing of its wearer, it was evident who this gargantuan person was.

It was Gargaran, the adamantine ranked adventurer from Blue Rose.

Sitting to her right was Lakyus Alvein Dale Aindra.

She was a young woman with lustrous, long blonde hair, green eyes, and pink lips that showed a healthy gleam. However, she was not wearing her usual adventurer's attire today. Instead, she donned a beautiful green dress stitched with silver and gold lining which accentuated her natural beauty. An expensive looking emerald hung from her neck and complemented her piercing green eyes, and a garter belt emblazoned with gem stones circled her waist. To any onlooker, it would have appeared that this delicate and dainty young woman had just came back from an extravagant ball. The only thing that did not match her attire was a sheathed bastard sword that was strapped to her hip. The handle was beautiful and inlaid with a black sapphire that was embedded into the pommel that was like a brightly burning flame. The guard at the end of the grip was fashioned in the macabre shape of a skull. If one was to unsheathe the sword, they would have commented on how the blade itself seemed to embody the darkness of night. However, only a few people knew the true form of the sword when its hidden ability was activated.

The reason she was garbed in such an extravagant manner was that she had just left from a meeting with the crown prince and princess Renner.

Sitting to Gargaran's left were the twins Tia and Tina.

Raised as assassins, these sisters had slender, toned figures and wore light clothes and armor for the purpose of speed and stealth. They both shared the exact same features and attire, with the only minute difference being the color of their ribbons. Tia's was blue whereas Tina's was red. In the past, both of them were tasked with the assassination of the leader of the Blue Rose, Lakyus, but after failing their goal, they decided to tail her to determine her weakness. As per the unwritten laws of nature, they eventually decided that a life of an Adventurer suited them better and left the employ of Ijaniya, the infamous assassins group, to join the Blue Rose.

Finally, at the edge, sat a young child.

"Hey Shorty, snap out of it"

Evileye ignored it.

"Hey Shorty! Hey!"

"Are you there? Hey!"

Evileye had a diminutive figure of a 12 year old girl. Due to her short stature, she was often teased as "Our Shorty" by members of the Blue Rose. She wore a blood red robe and a cryptic mask which hid her face. Originally a human, Evileye was transformed into a vampire under unknown circumstances and the events of how she destroyed a kingdom was shrouded in mystery. The only thing that was known was that due to her origin as a vampire, her deeds with the Thirteen Heroes were forgotten and twisted, and thus only the moniker Landfall, an evil vampire lord who anniliated a kingdom and was killed by the thirteen heroes endured.

After the disbandment of the Thirteen Heroes over two hundred years ago, she was found by the enigmatic Rigrit Bers Caurau, also known as the "Granny" by many. It was her who forced Evileye to take her place in Blue Rose, and since then, Evileye had been a valued and powerful member of the Kingdom's most famous adamantine ranked adventurer's party. Despite her sharp tongue and distant attitude, she was actually highly emotional and very sensitive.

"She always gets like this when his name comes up. You want to go and see him, don't you?"

Tina smiled.

Evileye blushed. Her face felt like it was burning underneath her mask. Her unmoving, undead heart felt like it was about to burst forth from her maiden chest. She stammered and mumbled while clutching her arms together. Fortunately, the cloak also covered up the tips of her ears, which were also started to flush red.

"…."

"…"

"I don't know what you are talking about!"

Evileye screamed. Her voice was unnecessarily loud and her head violently shook from side to side as she vehemently denied it.

 _\- so obvious._

Thought all the members of Blue Rose.

For some reason, it reminded them an old children's tale where a young adventurer girl had been rescued by a daring older adventurer with an impressive display of swordsmanship, and since then, she had been smitten by him. However, in that story, the older adventurer was a beastmen were-cat and for reasons unknown, also a fantastic chef.

 _I wonder if Momon can cook_

"…."

Suddenly, Lakyus spoke up, interrupting the scene and sparing Evileye of any further embarrassment.

"Anyways, what do you girls think about the tournament?"

Barely audible grumblings formed amidst the group.

"Have we confirmed that the declaration is legitimate?"

"Yes, I have just spoken with Princess Renner"

"I see.."

"I think we should participate. The rules are advantageous to us. Logically, the biggest threat would be the contestants brought forth from the Sorcerous Kingdom. The legion of Soul Eaters and Death Knights would decimate any opponent in one to one combat. Furthermore, the elder liches were similarly devastating with their deadly arsenal of combat magic."

"I agree. With magic being against the rules and that no undead will join… this actually gives us a realistic chance of actually winning the tournament"

"I wonder if that is the reason those conditions were put in place. But why?"

Lakyus nodded her head in agreement. Her radiant blonde hair bounced delicately with each movement.

"Regardless, if we could win the tournament, it would greatly elevate the morale of the Kingdom"

With the massacre at Katse Plains, the overall mood of the Re-Estize Kingdom was at an all-time low. Many people had family and colleagues in E-Rantel, and were concerned for their well-being after the forceful occupation of the city by the Sorcerer King. The sheer amount of casualties in the massacre also meant that it would be a struggle to harvest all the crops in time for the season. Furthermore, the ever looming threat of the Sorcerer King expanding his territory into the Kingdom was creeping on the back of everyone's mind. Despair and worry was inside the heart of every citizen of the Re-Estize Kingdom since the slaughter of all those men at Katse Plains. Their faith in their king was also understandably shaken.

"So.. what do you girls think? Should we go?"

"We know that Evileye will be going, regardless of what we say"

Tia mockingly raised her shoulders and clasped her hands while rolling her eyes upwards like a love-struck maiden.

"Ahhhhhhh"

The heat emanating from Evileye could be felt across the room.

In truth, she had been trying to come up with an excuse of going to E-Rantel for some time now. She was furious when she had heard that her beloved Momon had been forcibly conscripted into the service of the vicious Sorcerer King, and she has had many sleepless nights worrying about his safety and wellbeing.

 _I will finally get to meet him again. Maybe we can escape together?_

Once again, a torrent of romantic stories spun by bards flooded Evileye's thoughts.

 _No! No! No! Stupid thoughts! Get out! Get out!_

Evileye involuntarily shook her head in an exaggerated manner.

 _-so obvious._

Thought the rest of the Blue Rose group.

"Ahem!"

"Anyways, I will be participating in the tournament. Will the rest of you join me?"

The remaining members of the Blue Rose adventurer party looked at their leader. They were not surprised in the slightest at the declaration by their esteemed leader.

Each of them gave a shallow nod.

"If I may add, in my opinion, I cannot see why the Kingdom would agree host an event like this. The outflow of eager warriors would exacerbate the lack of military power in the kingdom. Also, this would leave the nation vulnerable to a surprise attack. How can we be sure this is not a trap?"

Tina quipped in a suspicious voice.

"The prize money itself is exceedingly generous. Even being in last place would ensure that the contestant would be able to live in luxury for the rest of his or her life. This would surely mean that people will flock in droves to E-Rantel, despite the threat of the undead"

"I appreciate your concern"

"Well, then. Let me reiterate what I was told by Princess Renner and Crown Prince Zanac."

Lakyus then launched herself into a lengthy explanation.

…

…

"Ohhhhh.. so Cherry Boy will be coming along as well?"

A mischievous grin spread across Gargaran's face.

…

…

* * *

Meanwhile, in the courtyard of the royal palace.

It was still very early in the morning. The pinching, frosty air and mildew hung lowly on the cobblestone ground. The sun was still low and only touching the hilltops at the distance.

Climb had risen earlier than usual today. His breath was hanging like smoke in his wake as he panted after an exhausting sparring match with Brain Unglaus. They had both been rigorously training to improve their combat skills. Suddenly, he shuddered as he hesitantly gazed towards the direction city.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just felt.."

…

…

* * *

Meanwhile, in a secret room in the Slane Theocracy

The man shrouded in a black hood smiled as he brandished the book, holding it up in the lavender glow of the magical lamp and flicking through the pages, giving his captain a tantalizing glimpse of scrawled handwriting and sophisticated sketches. The pages were filled with hundreds of intricate illustrations of demons, demi-humans, and heteromorphs with meticulously scribbled, spidery handwriting underneath. The level of detail was extraordinary, with statistics and measurements as well as notes on how to defeat the creatures.

On the front, there were runes in an unknown language that was badly smeared and faded with the passage of time.

To modern day Japanese readers, they would have noticed that it had previously read "Yggdrasil Monster Index. Version 1.0"

"So, did you find anything about our enemy, Ainz Ooal Gown"

"Nope. Sorry Capt'n. Ain't nothing in ere'"

The captain of the Black Scripture was a young man with long black hair and sharp red eyes. He wore an ornate looking bone-plate armor reinforced with adamantite and a single golden pauldron on his left shoulder. There were no ceremonial trinkets or baubles which typically decorated a fine cuirass such as the one he wore. A simple tabard hung across his chest. A humble looking spear was in his right hand, and a completed Rubik's cube in his left. His face bore a serious expression despite his youthful features. This was a stoic look of a commander.

"I see.. this is disappointing."

"You may return the relic to the treasury. I hope you did not damage one of the five treasures that the Six Great Gods left in our care"

The captain shot a warning look at his comrade, who reciprocated with a nonchalant smile.

"Of course not, even I would not dare.."

The 2nd seat of the Black Scripture gave a mocking bow.

"Well, it seems that we require more information about this Sorcerer King. If the events witnessed by the Thousand Miles Astrologer is true, then we will need to prepare ourselves against this impossibly powerful foe."

"At the moment, I was unable to find any details about his class or race. It is possible that he is a previously unheard of undead being who has ascended to a form beyond his kin."

In truth, the Captain of the Black Scripture was very concerned. The legacy left by the Six Great Gods contained information on almost all the creatures on the continent. At least half of the beasts in that encyclopedia have never been seen before by human eyes, and accounts only existed in legends.

 _Is Ainz Ooal gown a being that transcends mythology?_

"What do you think about this tournament they are planning to host?"

"I am uncertain of the true purpose of such an event, but I am sure that it does not bode well. Our agents have already reported that construction of a structure similar to a mass grave is currently underway in E-Rantel"

"What should we do about it?"

"What can we do about it?"

The Captain of the Black Scripture paused.

"We need more information before we can act"

"Why don't you participate in the tournament?"

"No, that would be most unwise. This could easily be a ploy to force us to showcase our skills and tactics so they can develop appropriate countermeasures"

"Well then, why don't we use the opportunity to use the tournament to scout their talents instead?"

That was precisely what the Captain of the Black Scripture was thinking, and was part of the secondary reason he had come to visit the 2nd seat.

"We need to minimize our presence in E-Rantel. We do not want to prematurely reveal ourselves to the enemy this early. Surely, they will be on the look-out for spies. That said, I would like to borrow your subordinates that are currently stationed at E-Rantel"

"Oh..those two… well…"

"I actually sent them on another mission"

The Captain of the Black Scripture frowned.

"Explain"

…

…

* * *

Inside the Adventurer's Guild in E-Rantel..

Pluton Ainzach looked at the parchment that was grasped tightly in his hands.

He was a middle age man who wore a mahogany brown leather vest and a green plaid shirt. He had piercing green eyes, and streaks of silver and grey could be seen in his chestnut brown hair. A faint ambience of authority and strength emanated from him. He was the guildmaster of the local chapter of the Adventurer's Guild in E-Rantel. Due to his reverence of Momon the Dark Hero and his concern for the well-being of the residents of E-Rantel, Ainzach had elected to remain in the city despite the invasion by the Sorcerer King.

However, in the last few weeks, he began to see the Sorcerer King in a new light.

The cold steel of an extravagant, enchanted short sword pressed snugly against his hip.

When the Sorcerer King had explained to him the lofty goals he had to create "True Adventurers", Ainzach was mesmerized. As such, he had followed him to in their covert infiltration of the Baharuth Empire and had arranged for the fight in the arena. Ainzach had also assisted the Sorcerer King in providing opinions on how to attract fledging adventurers to the city.

 _But still.. to think he was this dedicated to the cause._

Ainzach re-read the parchment again.

50,000 gold.

25,000 gold

10,000 gold.

5,000 gold.

\- and 100 gold for the top 50 contestants?!

This was a mindboggling sum for someone even of Pluton Ainzach's status. A mere 10 gold would be enough to feed a normal family for several months when used carefully.

A healing potion costs 3 gold, while a master suite with meals at the most luxurious inn at E Rangel would cost one gold at most.

 _Is Ainz Ooal Gown really that wealthy? This was a monumental sum even for royalty._

Ainzach looked outside his office and into the barren hall that was once bustling with adventurers.

 _I better get started and spruce up the place. If the reward is real… and knowing the current financial situation of many citizens of the Empire and Re-Estize Kingdom.._

Ainzach gulped.

 _A storm was approaching.._

…

…

* * *

Meanwhile, in the training room on the 2nd floor of the Great Tomb of Nazarick

The room itself was a grand, towering space. Niches in the walls housed statues of various horned aberrations, situating in a ring and posed as if holding court. Spaced between these, and around the periphery, were large arched tunnels with wooden doors that set deeper in.

In the middle was a central clearing with muddy grass and several training mannequins, and where several figures were engaging in a furious battle.

Higher up and stretched along the wall's circumference were rusted chains, pinned to the mortar in various places, where skeletal remains hung from time worn shackles. Their bony frames were held together by yellowed ligaments and ragged cloth.

Yet the combatants were not concerned in the slightest with the macabre setting surrounding them. Instead, they were wholly focused on the fight at hand.

Two of the figures were of a race known as Lizardmen. Their kin shared both human and reptilian characteristics. They were bipedal lizards with webbed feet and dark green and charcoal grey scales that were similar to those of a crocodile. Their natural scales were harder than the low end defensive equipment used by humans. Their fingers had five fingers, but with short claws spouting at the tips. This allowed them to wield weapons forged by both humans and lizardmen with great ease. Adult male lizardmen had an average height of 190 centimeters and were proud of their strong muscles, weighing over 100 kg with little body fat.

Typically, the lizardmen bore primitive armor and weapons as their culture was considered barbaric by human standards. However, these two figures were fully garbed with high end armor that would have been considered luxurious even by mithril ranked adventurers. They were even wielding magically infused weapons.

Zaryusu Shasha lunged forward with Frost Pain with the opening created by his egg-brother Shasuryu.

"- [Icy Burst} !"

Immediately, a shroud of white mist covered the battlefield.

"- [Cutting Edge] [Full throttle] !"

Zaryusu accelerated forward with amazing speed. It would have been difficult, even for an orihalcum ranked adventurer, to escape unscathed, especially with the fog obstructing their view.

However, Cocytus parried the blow easily with his fingers.

The lizardmen had predicted this.

After hundreds of mock battles, they were intimately familiar with the raw power their opponent possessed.

Frigid air bit deep as Shasuryu crouched low on the ground. He raised his palm and slammed it on the ground.

"- [Seismic slam]"

There was a sudden tremor and a noise like a small crack of thunder.

The muddy grass below both his and Cocytus feet started sinking rapidly. The vibrations from the martial art caused the viscous wet ground to conform into a consistency akin to quick sand.

Meanwhile, Zaryusu, unaffected by the sudden change in the ground as he was still in mid-air, spun around and drew a second hidden blade.

"- [Piercing Strike] [Physical Boost] !"

The speed of the second slash was even faster than the first one. Coupled with the unexpected shift in the ground, their enemy would be hard pressed to counter this blow.

The faint sound of hissing could be heard.

"Splendid. Move. I. am. Proud. Of. The. Both. Of. You."

Immediately, both Zaryusu and Shasuryu were blown back by a shockwave of air. The hazy white mist was instantly cleared, and a giant insectoid monster could be seen standing in the center.

Having an impressive body size of 2.5m, Cocytus had the appearance of a fusion between a mantis and an ant. His exoskeleton glimmered with frost, giving it the illusion of diamond dust. There was also a chrome like metallic sheen that reflected off his body. He had a tail that was twice as long as his height and four clawed arms. Fearsome looking mandibles jolted from his jaw.

He was also unarmed.

It would have been unfair if he had used Royal Blade God Slayer, a taichi bestowed upon him by his creator, and one of the sharpest of the twenty-one weapons Cocytus possessed.

"Good. Good. I. am. Very. Pleased. With. The. Progress."

Both Zaryusu and Shasuryu were panting on the ground with defeated looks in their eyes. As a sign of respect, they both gingerly attempted to get up to they could bow to their master.

"Learning. To. Fight. A. Stronger. Opponent. Will. Serve. You. Two. Well. In. The. Future."

There was a stream of vapor escaping Cocytus with every word he said. As his body naturally radiated a cold aura, there was always a cloud of condensation when he spoke.

'We. Have. Two. Months. To. Prepare."

"Do. Not. Disappoint. The. Supreme. One."

"- Yes, Cocytus-sama"

They chanted in unison.

..

…

* * *

Meanwhile, before all these events began, three individuals were meeting in the throne room of the Great Tomb of Nazarick..

A foreboding figure sat on the throne at the end of the hall. The seat of authority was expertly crafted out of a single piece of crystal, whose back was high enough to touch the ceiling above it. A large red banner hung down behind it, proudly displaying the symbol of the guild.

Within the gilded confines of throne room were multiple similar flags that were arrayed in splendor. There was a total of 41. In the past, these were all unique and individualized. However, now they all bore the same great sigil. The crest of Ainz Ooal Gown.

The room itself was very large and could easily accommodate several hundred people. There were numerous chandeliers which hung from the ceiling which cast a prismatic radiance throughout the hall. The ceiling was high and the surrounding walls were a predominantly white color, with golden decorations as highlights. Each piece of décor was worth thousands of gold.

On the right of the foreboding figure was an elegantly dressed woman. Although her curled horns, golden irises and vertically-slitted pupils were somewhat odd, it was captivating nonetheless. She wore a white dress with a gold and silver necklace designed in the likeness of a tribal dream catcher. A pair of delicate, jet black wings emerged from her waist. Her narrow wrists were covered in a pair of lustrous silk gloves, and if one had paid close attention, it seemed that her hands were trembling. She was struggling with all her might not to leap forward and embrace her Lord.

She was the Overseer of the Floor Guardians of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, Albedo. She was in charge of the seven floor guardians, and the highest ranked character in the hierarchy.

On the left of the foreboding figure was a humanoid like figure dressed in a maroon pin-striped suit with a matching tie. He had obsidian black hair that was slicked back and wore a pair of glasses made famous by a particular villain in another game. However, his gentlemanly appearance did little to conceal the evil aura around him. He also had a silvery tail tipped with six sharp spikes and ended with a flickering black flame.

"This one expresses gratitude to be allowed in your presence, Supreme One"

His words were empowered by a passive skill called [Command Mantra] which could instantly turn weak willed low level people into puppets dancing on his strings. However, it had no effect on the people currently present in the throne room, and this only sounded superficially honeyed.

This humanoid creature was the Guardian of the 7th floor, and the de facto defense commander in the case of an emergency.

Demiurge was initially on assignment at the Holy Kingdom, but was called back to discuss the matters at hand.

He bowed deeply.

"Will Ainz-sama be delaying his trip to the Dwarven city then?"

"That is correct. It seems I may have to spend some time in E-Rantel after all"

 _He had initially planned to see the Dwarven artificier to commission some work and masonry for the underground dungeon he was planning to build with Mare. That was it! Honestly! That is why volume 11 will mostly be about Pure-pure Pleiades._

Albedo interjected.

"Ainz-sama, forgive this one for her inferior intellect, but will you be participating in the tournament as Momon?"

"Hm…"

"I object! I cannot possibly allow our merciful leader, the last of the Supreme beings, to place himself in danger!"

Demiurge blurted out angrily, before immediately realizing he had spoken out of turn and interrupted his Lord. He instantly kneeled and begged for forgiveness.

…

 _Shit! What should I say? I don't know the answer to this._

"Ahem.. You are forgiven, Demiurge. You were only looking out for my safety"

Ainz then turned to Albedo.

"No. It would be very demoralizing for the contestants to have to battle against their hero, Momon. It would only lead to discontent if we used Momon to participate in the tournament."

 _Shit! Was that what I was supposed to say?!_

"Ah. I see. Yes, that would certainly be the case. As expected of the Supreme Ruler of Nazarick.. Ku..ku..ku.."

 _Success_!

"Ahem.. Well now. Demiurge. Albedo. Let me hear your suggestions on how to proceed with this tournament."

Both Demiurge and Albedo glanced at each other while trying to grasp the underlying meaning of Ainz's command. Their master, Ainz Ooal Gown, was the supreme ruler of Nazarick, and who had been described to have concealed countless stratagems within a single move of a chess piece. As mere floor guardians, they could not even hope to graze the soles of their master's brilliance even with their outstretched hands.

Noticing their hesitation, Ainz immediately added.

"- I would simply like to hear your opinion on how you would run this if you were in my position. After all, you are both commanders in Nazarick, and it would be a stain on my personage if both of you were incapable of handling such a simple task"

 _That should do it!_

"If you would pardon this one's incompetence, I believe we will first need to improve the infrastructure of E-Rantel in order to accommodate the large influx of travelers and contestants. We will also need to assign permits to the merchants and traders who will be selling their wares. This will ensure that the trade and commerce system of E-Rantel will be revived and all the taxes will go towards our coffers."

"Since the occupation of the city by your Majesty two months ago, there have been no visitors or tourists to the city. As such, malicious rumors about the area have been spread and many humans had simply assumed that all the citizens of E-Rantel had perished or forced into slavery and servitude. The tournament will open our borders and let these lowly humans know that even we can be gracious to swine if they pledged their unwavering loyalty. They will be in awe at the safety and order that the hosts of Nazarick can provide, and as such, we will need to re-double our efforts in ensuring proper decorum in the city "

"Finally, I believe this provides us with a unique opportunity to scout out any credible threats amongst the Empire and the Kingdom. This event will surely attract the strongest fighters and warriors, and we will be able to judge their talents and threat level accordingly. Furthermore, this will allow us to learn more about this [Martial Arts] that had long caught the attention of yourself, Ainz-sama. As such, I believe we should remain on alert and dispatch our elite spies to watch the competition"

"It is also possible that the ones responsible for Shalltear's brainwashing might be present, or they might even be brazen enough to try to participate in the tournament. This will grant us an opportunity to assess their strengths and weaknesses, as well as discern their identity"

"However..there is one part that I cannot adequately comprehend…"

"I beg your forgiveness, but your servant humbly requests your assistance. Why would you give such a generous amount of gold to the victors? Also, why would you give 100 gold as a consolation prize to mere participants." Said Demiurge.

"Ku..ku..ku…"

Albedo grinned.

"I think I can explain the rationale behind that Demiurge."

"Under Ainz-sama's orders, I have been purchasing large amounts of grain and unperishable goods from the Kingdom with the aid of the Eight Fingers in anticipation of the predicted famine due to the lack of man power tending to the crops of the Kingdom."

"By giving even these lowborn scum a small token of solace, we will be providing them with an opportunity to trade with our Kingdom. After all, there is no point selling to people with no money."

"Furthermore, Ainz-sama had wanted to attract more adventurers and people and by offering even a morsel to the people who, in this world's standards, were strong but yet not within league of the top eight elite warriors, he will be able to seduce even more people to the city!"

Demiurge's body shuddered with awe.

…

…

"But those are all secondary objectives, aren't they, Ainz-sama"

"You have not yet revealed the real reason why you decided to host this tournament"

Albedo looked admirably at her Master.

The hidden brilliance behind the Martial arts tournament had exceeding all her expectations.

"Demiurge. We must work to repay Ainz-sama's kindness"

"Of course, Albedo"

…

….

[Music plays: Clattonia OxT]

[Kotae wa doko aiiiiii eyah eyah]

[Sagashite…aiiii eyah eyah!]

[Where's my soul?] [Where's my heart?]

[Riaru ni nomareteku]

[Don't hesitate] [go this way]

[Wa—ka ra nai kamawanai]

[Magaimono furutte—mo]

 **End of Prologue**

* * *

Author's note:

I hope you guys enjoyed the story so far. It took my entire Saturday to do this.

For people who did not seem to pick up on all the foreshadowing in Chapter 1, I recommend they re-read the last scene.

Anyways, leave a review and stay tuned!

P.S. I am really tired and did not bother to re-read what I had written. Please forgive any spelling and grammar mistakes. If anyone wants to help me proof-read and stuff, just PM me.

I may also be in need for some people to help co-author parts of the story. With my busy schedule, and the upcoming release of Volume 11, I would really like to finish the story in the next 2-4 weeks, but that may be unrealistic.

P.S #2: HINT: There is a reason why I choose to quote Albedo in the second last sentence in this chapter. It will foreshadow the plot that is yet to come!


	6. The Twin Dragons

Two months ago, in the distance a monolithic castle floated atop a low craggy peak, accessible via a winding, treacherous path that cut through the stone foothills.

Inside, a withered old lady nimbly strode forward to the slumbering creature that lay within.

Her steps were light and silent and seemed infused with a vigor that defied her elderly appearance.

She stretched her arm out. The parchment thin skin and knobby fingers cast a long shadow on the ground

"- It's been a while, Rigrit"

The dragon opened its eyes. It glowed a faint crimson, and it seemed to pierce through the stale darkness enveloping the room. Its majestic scales seemed to be made of chrome and platinum, and seemed to imply the hardness of adamantine at the very least. Its body was about the size of a modern day firetruck. It was a massive beast with incredible physical strength that was matched only by its magical prowess. Its wings were folded across its body like a giant bat, and its limbs and tail were hidden snugly beneath them. It was also ferociously intelligent, and was not blinded by greed or lust like the other dragon lords of old.

This was the Platinum Dragon Lord.

The Terrible.

The Magnificent.

The Greatest of Calamities.

However, its voice was surprisingly soft and compassionate.

"I had expected that you would show up sooner or later, old friend"

The old lady laughed from the bottom of her heart.

"I like the retired life. It gives me time to visit all my friends and companions.."

"- and then intrude into their home like an old granny"

She smiled with a mischievous grin.

"Heh. I cannot imagine a human like you to ever turn senile"

They both looked at each other while a tide of nostalgic memories flooded their hearts.

"- anyways, there is a reason I came to see you today, old friend"

She produced a carefully rolled parchment from her bag and slowly unraveled it.

"I stole this"

The dragon's eye widened as it scanned the contents.

"Interesting.."

"This Sorcerer King.. he might be on par with that vampire. It is certainly possible that they are both part of the tremors that I felt that day. It had been more than two hundred years. This time, I do not think it is something that would help the world like leader did."

"I see."

"I came here to discuss this particular declaration with you. Specifically, I wanted to ask you what you think we should do with it."

"Hmmm…"

The Platinum Dragon Lord had a genuine tone of surprise in its voice.

The elderly lady would have given a flippant response, but kept herself in check.

"I think we should take the opportunity to observe our opponent and their forces. There seems to be a magical field that prevents me from directly scrying this Sorcerer King."

"So you agree?"

Rigrit Bers Caurau could feel the vitality infusing her old bones. Stamina returned to her muscles. Her skin trembled with excitement.

"It would be nice to see how that crybaby is doing"

"Crybaby?"

The dragon pondered momentarily then realization struck.

"You mean her?"

Rigrit nodded.

"Ah-So you actually convinced that kid to be an adventurer huh?"

Rigrit flashed another mischievous smile.

"I think the rest of them will be there as well. It would be nice to see the rest of my little girls again…."

Her voice trailed off as she spoke the last few words tenderly.

"I am concerned that blindly entering the domain of an unknown enemy and revealing yourself would only lead to negative consequences in the future… In fact, one could say that it is akin to entering a slumbering dragon's den"

The platinum dragon lord snorted at its own joke while a puff of white smoke emitted from its nostrils.

"Well, that is precisely why I came to see you, old friend"

And with that, her gaze shifted towards the dusty platinum armor in the corner.

…

…

...

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the Great Tomb of Nazarick

Tsuareninya Beiron's eyes widen in astonishment and shock as she clutched the piece of parchment.

 _"Fifty thousand?!"_

It was a ludicrous sum.

With her meager origins, it was an incomprehensible amount of gold. Despite all her effort, even visualizing such a vast number was beyond her capabilities. Beads of sweat slithered down her back as she shuddered involuntarily while her mind tried to grasp the concept of that much gold.

Her eyes went down to the next line.

 _"Twenty five thousand for second place?!"_

She felt faint. Her attempt to comprehend such a value was exhausting.

 _"Is Master Ainz-Ooal Gown that wealthy?!"_

She hastily shot a pleading look at the person next to her. Her eyes seem to contain a hope that such a being could not possibly exist.

"There is nothing beyond the capabilities of the Supreme One, Ainz-sama"

The words were firm with conviction and confidence.

The one who spoke was a gracefully aged butler in a traditional black and white uniform. The suit was immaculately pressed and completely wrinkle-free. His hair was entirely white and he had a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were sharp, and his face was gaunt with a strong jaw line. A delicate white handkerchief protruded from his left breast pocket, and his leather shoes was spotless and shined in a way that defied logic. In a way, the man seemed to be the physical embodiment of the words Honor and Compassion.

He was Sebas Tian, the head butler of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, leader of the Pleiades combat maids, and personal creation of the strongest warrior in the guild, Lord Touch Me.

"Does he really intend to pay this much gold to the winners?!"

Tsuare blurted, before immediately covering her mouth with her hands as she realized she had forgotten the honorific.

Sebas remained silent.

 _It does seem like an exorbitant sum to pay for such a thing. In truth, I do not understand the rationale as well.._

He tightly gripped his right hand in frustration and creased his glove.

If only I was blessed with more insight into the Supreme One's plan..

He thought enviously of Demiurge and Albedo.

Tsuare, noticing that no reprimand was coming, continued:

"Is that why Ainz-sama wanted you to join?"

Sebas was habitually straitening out his glove when replied.

"Perhaps.. I am unsure if he intends for me to be the victor of the tournament, or if he had other plans for my involvment. Regardless, I will follow his command unquestioningly."

He then looked to his left and saw the beaming face of Tsuare. It had a puppy like look of reverence and admiration as well as ...

Sebas immediately thought of the countenance of his superior, the Floor Guardian Overseer.

"No one is stronger than you, right? Sebas-sama?"

His expression unchanged, he replied.

"- we shall see."


	7. Adventures of Mare Ch1

Ainz Ooal Gown and Mare strolled down the hall and came upon a massive set of double doors flanked by two metallic golems. These were rare armored golems specifically stationed in the inner parts of Nazarick.

In response to their approach, the golems put their hands on the door and slowly pushed it open. After the heavy sound of mahogany creaking under pressure faded, Ainz Ooal Gown and Mare made their way inside.

They were greeted by a grandiose scene. Not a single speck of dust was visible on the meticulously polished oak floors. The resin and amber coating reflected the glow of the extravagant chandeliers on the ceiling. The high arched semicircular ceiling was covered in grand frescos and luxurious carvings. Sculptures of gemstone and marble were artfully stationed around the room. In the center of the room was a large petrified willow tree. There were cracks in the bark which revealed the mesmerizing jewel-like wood underneath. Mineral laden water with trace elements such as copper, cobalt, and iron had fossilized with the tree in a process known as permineralization. This gave petrified wood its unique multi-colored gem like quality. The branches of the willow tree was bare except for a single long branch in which a giant ruby red ornament carved in the fashion of an apple was hanging at its edge.

 _Herohero, who designed the library, had always liked history and renaissance themed artwork.._

However, by far, the most impressive part of this room was the sheer amount of books that filled that glass bookshelves that surrounded the entire area. They were stacked neatly and as high as the ceiling. It gave off an imposing aura of overbearing knowledge.

Amidst a silence befitting of a library, Ainz and Mare proceeded to walk down the hall and into a particular row of books in the middle of the library.

There were five kinds of books in Yggdrasil. The first category were monster data which contained information to summon monsters. The second were magical tomes that functioned in a way similar to one use spell books. The third were event items, such as the "Book of the Dead" which evolved a being from a Skeleton Mage into an Elder Lich. The fourth were cosmetic skin data which allowed players to re-skin or transmogrify their armor or weapons. Finally, the fifth type were simply filler, and the reason why both Ainz and Mare were here today. Essentially, they were books that were added to the game simply for immersion and decorative purposes.

Normally, these books were typically old and classic literature whose copyright ran out a long time ago, but there were also background stories distributed by the development team and original novels written by players in Yggdrasil. There was also fanfiction based on the worlds of YGGDRASIL or game guides in the form of diaries or novels. _(actual quote from volume 8)_

A hooded figure hovered towards the direction of Ainz and Mare. It had a jewelry embedded wand and a skeletal visage. Remnants of skin was stretched tautly across its face. A faint darkness seemed to encircle the being.

It was an Elder Lich created specifically for the maintenance and upkeep of the library of the Great Tomb of Nazarick.

 _Librarian J._

"Welcome, Ainz-sama"

"Welcome, Mare-sama"

It bowed deeply. The sound of creaking bones could be heard.

"Do you require any assistance?"

Its hollowed voice seemed eager to service.

Ainz waved his bony hand in a dismissive gesture.

"We should be fine. You are dismissed"

"As you command, my Lord".

The Elder Lich genuflected and hovered away disappointed.

Both Ainz and Mare were here for a specific purpose. He had left Mare in charge of building the dungeon in which he would eventually use to train the new generation of adventurers. However, he soon realized that with only the knowledge and information inputted into Mare's character biography, it would be difficult for him to independently design the dungeon on his own. As such, Ainz had suggested that they search the library for inspiration. In particular, he was looking for developer notes that were part of the fifth type of book in Yggdrasil.

Ainz Ooal Gown scanned the bookshelf with an outstretched finger.

"….um…what…are…we.. looking for… Ainz-sama?" Mare quipped.

"We are looking for anything that would help us in building the underground training dungeon. Why don't you take a look over there?"

Ainz motioned to the bookshelf behind him.

"YES! Ainz-sama"

Mare hurried to obey.

Ainz scanned the row of books in front of him, and took out a pair of glasses.

 _Hm.. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Nope. Origins of the Mages Guild.. Nope. Galerion the Mystic.. Nope. Elder slimes and their counterparts. Nope. Punnito Moe: Anyone Can Easily PK. Nope. Confessions of a Dunmer Skooma Eater.. Nope. Light's downfall.. Nope. A banquet and other royal duties.. Nope._

A glint of gold embossing caught Ainz eye.

 _The Reluctant Overlord.. Nope._

"Damn it. Where could it be?"

Ainz began to feel frustrated. He made an effort to sigh as best his undead skeletal body was capable of doing so.

 _Oh!_

His long bony fingers finally rested on the tome he was searching for. It was bound in a fancy green-tinted leather hardcover and in silver lettering, it read:

Developer Diary #5: Concept Art and Level Design in Yggdrasil

 _Perfect!_

Ainz turned around.

"Mare..take a look at-"

"AINZ-SAMA!. I FOUND IT!"

He was conferred to a scene of young dark elf child eagerly holding out a large red book. The child had lustrous golden hair and mismatched heterochromic eyes. He wore an elegant blue dragon leather full bodied suit covered with a white and gold vest emblazoned with the crest of Ainz Ooal Gown. A rangers' forest-green clock hung from his back. Despite being a boy, he had a short white skirt which bewitchingly revealed his dark skinned thighs. He wore the signet ring of the guild on his right ring finger, and an acorn necklace hung from his neck which emitted a faint silver light.

Mare restlessly presented the book with both hands outstretched. He was trembling with excitement and happiness at being able to complete the objective set forth by the Supreme One.

"I FOUND IT!"

He even managed to overcome his usual stuttering and subservient attitude.

"Oh.. good job, Mare. Let me take a -"

Ainz Ooal Gown froze. Several waves of a verdant green aura washed over him.

 _What?!_

Ainz took a closer look at the title while another cascade of green energy passively washed over him in an attempt to regulate his emotions.

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

An Easy Guide to Building Your Own BDSM Dungeon.

 _What?!_

 _How was this possible? Yggdrasil was on the lower tier of M-rated games. Any AO material was strictly removed from the game. In fact, the reason he could touch Albedo's breasts was used as proof that this was not Yggdrasil 2.0._

 _Then why was this book here?!_

 _Wait.._

Ainz examined the title closer and something odd occurred to him. It was a subtle discrepancy in the actual lettering of the book and what he read.

 _Is this… ENGLISH?!_

Yggdrasil was a DMMO-RPG (Dive Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game) that was developed in Japan and service from 2126 AD to 2138 AD.

Suddenly, a revelation came to him, and the events that transpired became clear.

 _Ah.. I think I understand what happened._

Books served two purposes. Firstly, it was another medium to provide insight into lore of the game. Secondly, it aided in the immersion of the game. To fill a world as large as Yggdrasil with interesting books was an impossibly difficult task. As such, the developers had allowed certain high ranking players and community moderators to submit their own original works to the game as long as it pertained to the lore and passed through screening. However, if one was cunning enough and abused their mod powers..

 _"Still.. to think they would come up with something like this-"_

Even in the future, Japan had retained a lot of its traditions and customs, and has not fully embraced other languages and cultures.

Ainz chuckled.

He could imagine the huge uproar if this book was discovered. He could envision the faux outrage posts, the smug grins of the persons responsible as they claimed credit, and the posts which condemned the developers for being lazy and screaming that the game was broken, along with the unavoidable unrelated posts criticizing Japan's isolationist policies.

"Um….Ainz-sama… there seems… to..be… pictures… in.. this… book"

Mare blushed as he opened the book and flipped through the contents.

An avalanche of a green-hued aura washed over Ainz Ooal Gown.

"Ah. Wait. Mare-"

As Mare settled on the last page, Ainz managed to glimpse at the name of the author.

It was a name he did not expect to see.

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

BUKUBUKUCHAGAMAAA !?

Meanwhile, a pink elder slime raised its arms in an apologetic manner.

"- - - - - -Sorry"

(Yup! Even big sis had a mischievous side)


	8. The Rise of E-Rantel Ch1

Update: Just fixed some canon stuff

* * *

Ainz walked down the hall from the library back to the throne room while Mare timidly trailed behind him.

There was complete silence.

To any other observer, it would have appeared to have been a peaceful and serene sight.

However, there was a storm raging inside the mind of Ainz Ooal Gown.

 _Crap! What should I do!_

He had to find a way to discuss this delicately. In his arms, he held two books. One was a fancy green tinted leather hardcover book with the title Developer Diary #5: Concept Art and Level Design in Yggdrasil. The second was a salacious red book with the title: An Easy Guide to Building Your Own BDSM Dungeon. The author had cunningly used the English language to sneak an adult AO themed booked into the Japanese DMMORPG. Furthermore, the identity of the person responsible had been extremely unexpected.

Bukubukuchagama was a member of the 41 Supreme Beings in the Great Tomb of Nazarick and one of the three female guild members of Ainz Ooal Gown. She had a bubblicious personality, and was the creator of Aura and Mare. In real life, she was a famous voice actress who often played young female characters in H-games. She was the older brother of Peroroncino, and their petty squabbles often filled the guild hall. In the raid team, she often took the role of 'tank' and held the title 'The Unsinkable'. Her avatar was that of a pink Elder Slime. She was also a person who enjoyed playing pranks.

As Ainz continued to walk, he would often sneak glances at Mare who was still blushing.

Finally, unable to contain it any longer, Mare quipped.

"…Um… Ainz-sama…Was..that um.. Bukubukuchagama's book?"

AInz froze.

 _Shit!_

 _Shit!_

"Well, Mare. It does appear so."

Ainz was at a loss of what to say while waves of green aura washed over him.

"…Hm..I see.. Well,.um...if..thats the case...Can I..uhh..keep the book..?"

Despite being a level 100 undead, Ainz felt all the life drain out of him. A tapping noise could be heard in the hall as his bony fingers trembled involuntarily against the heavy book.

 _This must be it!_

 _Mare was at an age where all young boys became curious about 'that'_

 _What should he do!_

He had never had this sort of conservation before.

His parent never had this sort of conversation with him as well.

However, the was a more embarrassing fact that Ainz was reluctant to admit.

Personally, he had no experience what-so-ever with the opposite sex.

He was addicted to video games.

There was a reason why he often role played magic casters.

He was, in essence, a real life wizard.

A 30 year old virgin.

 _Shit!_

"Well. Mare. Why do you want to keep the book?"

He did not know what to say, and simply blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"Um..you..see.. Because.. it..is..Bukubukuchagama's.."

 _Ah!_

 _That's right. The NPCs in Nazarick viewed the personal items of their creators as sacred relics and coveted them greedily_.

An intense surge of relief flooded Ainz.

But it still did not solve his current predicament.

"Mare. We need to talk. You see-"

Suddenly, Ainz paused.

Something was odd.

It was true that Bukubukuchagama enjoyed playing pranks. She was also a H-game voice actress, and was not shy in inserting various raunchy tidbits into her personal items. The pink watch on his right wrist that Ainz gave to Mare in which he warned him never to set to 19:19 or 7:21 was proof of that. These numbers can be read as an erotic word in Japanese wordplay, and Ainz had no doubt what would happen if the alarms were set on those times.

 _But still.._

There was no reason to use her real name in that book.

If she had been reported, her account would have faced disciplinary action. Because of this, most people would use a pen name or pseudonym when doing something like this.

The book was also placed openly in the library of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, where it would be easy to find.

...

...

...

..

...

...

...

...

...

...

..

...

A revelation came to Ainz. He screamed aloud.

"PERORONCINO!"

Peroroncino was the younger brother of Bukubukuchagama, and was known in the guild for his perversion and love of H-games. His avatar was the Winged Lord of Bombardment, a birdman demi-human. His favorite creation had been Shalltear, who embodied all his fetishes and lustful desires. He also shared his sisters love for pranks, and they often engaged in week long prank wars that was both entertainment and a nuisance to the guild.

Mare jumped from Ainz sudden outburst.

"Ahhhh!-"

Noticing this, Ainz swiftly apologized.

"Sorry for startling you, Mare."

"No…its..fine..Ainz-sama..I should have-"

Ainz raised his skeletal hand to silence him, and continued.

"I am also sorry, but I cannot give you this book. I do not think this book actually belongs to Bukubukuchagama, and I also do not think the contents are appropriate for someone such as yourself just yet. As such, I will be confiscating this book for the time being. I hope that you also do not mention the existence of this book to anyone else. Understand?"

"Um..Yes, Ainz-sama."

Mare bowed and nodded his head.

 _Success!_

 _Deferring these sort of talks was the standard way of dealing with delicate subjects such as this!_

Ainz handed over the green leather Developer Diary to Mare.

"This book contains the information you need to build the underground training dungeon. Take a look at it. You may need to speak to several mason workers to work out the details. There is a well-known city in the West in the Re-Estize Kingdom that is famous for its crafters and masonry. I would recommend heading up there first. I entrust the task of completing this training dungeon to you."

Mare's eyes widened with awe as he took the book with both hands. He was quivering from the fact that the Supreme One had placed so much faith and trust in him.

"…I..wont fail you, Ainz,sama!"

He then rushed down the hall.

As Ainz heard the footsteps diminish, he let out a huge sigh.

 _Perfect!_

 _Distraction was also the standard way of dealing with delicate subjects such as this!_

There was still one more problem.

He looked at the remaining book that was in his hands.

 _What should I do with this?_

 _Should I return it to the library?_

 _No, he could not exclude the risk that someone might accidentally find it. There was also a small chance that Mare might try to look for it again. Furthermore, if Mare had let slip that this book might be the possession of Peroroncino, then there was a high chance that Shalltear would seek this book._

Ainz shuddered.

 _Should he keep the book in his pocket space?_

 _No, he did not want to be the one that carried such as smutty book with him. There was a chance that he might encounter other Yggdrasil players, or even members of the 41, and he did not want their impression of him tainted by this book._

 _He also did not want to destroy this book. Despite its questionable contents, it was still a possession of one of his closest friends._

An idea occurred to him. He could put the book back in the library, but in the personal section that was decreed as off-limits to everyone but himself and a select few NPCs.

He looked behind him, and realized that the library was a long walk away. He was also starting to get worried about Mare. After all, he was just a child and was about to embark on a lengthy journey alone.

 _Was it the right decision to let him go alone? After all, the enemy that brainwashed Shalltear was still at large._

Ainz brooded on the topic, then arrived to the conclusion that it would be poor form if he reneged back on his word. He needed to be the quintessence of a capable and confident leader. Still, he should assign some guards. If possible, he would like to directly teleport Mare into the city to minimize the risk.

 _Perhaps I should talk to Demiurge or Albedo._

He glanced back at the red book he was holding.

It was pure luck when Ainz saw one of the homunculi maids of Nazarick walking down the hall. He immediately beckoned her to approach, and explained the scenario. After ensuring that she did understand his orders, he dismissed her and strode towards the direction that Mare had run off to.

Once the homunculi maid saw that her Master had walked away, she raised her head and ran in the direction of the library.

Unfortunately, in her haste, she did not see the figure around the corner and bumped into it.

"What do you have there?"

A bewitching voice asked.


	9. Adventures of Mare Ch2

He remembered that day well.

The sun was bright.

It was very bright.

Sunlight glinted off the drops of water that slowly dripped with the slivers of the hay-packed roof. They flashed brilliant prisms of light with miniature rainbows as they hung there on the edge before eventually falling to the ground below.

A single drop fell onto the head of a red haired man who was working hard to tie the large slabs of wheat that were stack in a giant pile alongside the wall of the hut.

Meanwhile, his wife stood in the shadow of the doorway while gazing at the man. A faint smile was on her lips. She was still in her night clothes which hid a firm and toned body. Her hair was messy and tussled. Her arms were tan and her hands were calloused but she still exuded a warm beauty.

The man could feel eyes on him as he turned around.

The woman shifted her weight from one foot to another before flashing a larger smile.

"Good Morning!"

The man ignored her.

"Hey! I know you heard me!"

"Does the big strong man want breakfast?"

She laughed softly.

The man felt scolded and praised at the same time. He narrowed his eyes while wiping off the sweat that had accumulated on his brow.

"We were lucky that the rain did not soak the wheat. I need to hurry and tie these stalks together so we can keep them inside where they can dry"

"That's why I made the tarp!"

The woman grinned while showing her hands which had scars from prick injury. There were a few that still had a dried crust of blood in them.

"Hahaha… that is true. Do you want a pat on the head or something?"

His laughter was playful and rang as clear as a bell.

The woman started swaying from side to side while twisting her fingers nervously. Her movements were exaggerated while she tried her best to puff her cheeks. A pink flush appeared on her face.

"Oh come on! I know that's not you!"

Instantly, the woman stopped and regained her previous demeanor.

"-Anyways! The food is on the table!"

She walked back inside the hut, but not before playfully sticking a single leg our while hiking her blouse up in a seductive manner.

After about another hour of work, the man walked inside the hut.

Craig Elliot had fiery red hair with a gruff unshaven beard. Innumerable freckles marked his skin due to the hours he spent in the sun each day toiling in the fields. His face was gaunt with protuberant cheek bones. His wore a simple brown farmer's tunic with a white cotton belt. Bits of grain and stalk were caught in the weaving, and he was coated in a fine pollen. His arms were slim but muscular. Overall, he could be described as having the typical physique of a man who engaged in rough physical labor on a daily basis but lacked the proper nourishment to develop a bulkier frame.

When he entered the hut, his mood immediately soured.

It was practically barren except for a small circular table in the center with several small tree stumps used as chairs. A small fire place with smoldering coals was on the right, and on the left was a door that lead to the only other room in the house; the bedroom where a single large mattress lay on the straw covered floor. Crude iron kitchen tools hung in the living room, and there were large clay jars which stored harvested grain. At the corner of the room was a makeshift store room where bundles of wheat were stored for drying.

In other words, the place was the personification of poverty.

They lived in the Re-Estize kingdom, under the domain of a noble who was known for his extravagant parties and wasteful spending. Furthermore, with the yearly skirmishes with the Baharuth Empire, the levy on the village seemed to be rising progressively. It was close to the breaking point for many villagers who had to struggle with the diminishing workforce due to conscription as well as the higher tributes demanded. It was not a sustainable system.

In the center of the table was a small bowl of oat meal and a loaf of bread. A pitcher of water was on the side.

"Hm.. well, at least we have each other."

Craig had been wed to his lovely wife for almost a year. They were in their early twenties, and while heavily pressured by the community to have children, he had wanted to wait until he was in a more stable financial situation to provide for her before committing.

Still, he was happy. As long as he had her, he would always be happy regardless of the hardship thrown at him.

He looked around the house, but did not see her.

 _She must have gone to the sewing sweatshop._

He sighed. He recalled the scene where she had seductively stuck her leg out.

 _That's too bad._

In truth, it would have been surprising if she was still waiting for him in the house. They were under extreme duress in trying to meet the quota set forth by the head of the domain. They would be coming to collect soon.

Craig had a grim look on his face.

 _There will be people who will go hungry this winter._

…

…

...

* * *

Eventually, as if beckoned by the despair, the day of the collection arrived. The sky was cloudy and downcast. A shadow loomed over the village.

It began as it always did. The sounds of the creaking of wheels and the crack of whips reverberated in the air. The path up the slope to the village was poorly maintained and muddy from the rain, but the tax collectors persevered through.

Craig stood at the entrance with the rest of the villagers. They bowed their heads as the drivers of the horse drawn wagons pulled into the central clearing at the center of the village. He could see that the horses had been pushed hard on this journey. Their flanks glimmered with sweat and their eyes were wild with exhaustion. He could see sizable stacks of grain in several of the wagons.

It seems they had already collected from the other villages.

 _I wonder how many people will die of starvation over there_

Craig thought bitterly.

As the last of the wagons pulled into the clearing, a man with an air of authority rode ahead and declared:

"By the order of Baron of Whitfield, under the domain of Marquis Blumlash and with the authority of the King of the Re-Estize Kingdom, I hereby demand that you peasants pay your dues!"

The man then motioned for three of the wagons to come forward.

"We request that you fill these wagons to the brim with the produce that you have promised."

Shock rippled across the faces of the villagers.

 _Three wagons full?!_

It was an absurd number. They were not a large village. In fact, there were only about 20 families in total. They needed the grain to trade for other supplies and metalwork.

The head chieftain was the first to gather his courage and spoke out.

'My sincerest apologies, my liege. But three full wagons might be a bit difficult for us to deliver. We were informed that the levy this year would be 35% of the crops, and hence we can only provide two wagons full of grain at most."

The chieftain kneeled in front of the messenger.

Suddenly, a large man rode into the clearing. He wore a luxurious chainmail shirt with gold trimmings that seemed to be dirty with mud spattered from when the horse trod in the wet ground. He was a great stout keg of a man and huffed and puffed as he rode forward. He was in a foul mood.

He was flanked by two imposing figures. The men's dark blue uniforms and brass buttons identified them as the nobles' body guards. A fearsome looking whip rested on their sides, and a short sword hung from their hips. Craig glanced at the metal studded gauntlets and boots. They would happily break an arm or leg with ease if commanded to do so. They answered only to the Baron or Marquis.

Everyone recognized the countenance of the man who suddenly burst forth from the group. It was Baron Kinden Erebseth dale Zanon. He had a cruel smile on his face.

"Haven't you peasants heard? We are in a war. The Kingdom demands your loyalty and tribute. Who is it that keeps all of you safe and well in your beds? Who is it that keeps the Empire away from your village?"

"Even so, we were gracious enough to only ask for three wagons full. You should be grateful!"

He spat.

The village chieftain bowed deeply and said.

"But your Lordship, we…"

The vicious crap of a whip could be heard, followed by a shriek.

The elderly chieftain laid on the ground, bleeding from where he was struck.

"Again—"

The baron motioned for another lash.

"STOP!"

The woman next to Craig Elliot screamed.

She bravely walked forward and was promptly struck down.

A large wound appeared on her chest and was bleeding profusely. The cut was shallow, but the whip was heavy and braided, and could still inflict a serious injury. Blinded from the pain, she fell to the ground with a loud 'thud'.

"Noooo!"

Craig Elliot burst forth towards his collapsed wife.

Relief flooded his being when he saw that she was still breathing. The blood was still flowing copiously, but the laceration itself was only superficial. The bleeding would stop soon, although there will be a scar. However, the anguish and pain was easily apparent on her face.

Craig gripped his fist tightly, and walked angrily to the Baron.

He subsequently kneeled and pressed his fore-head to the muddy ground.

"My apologies! Please forgive us. We will bring out the grain to fill the wagons as promised!"

"Please spare us!"

He swallowed his pride as he forced each word out. He had no other choice. The reality of the situation had dawned upon him. Nothing good would come from resisting further. He knew that no one in the village would object to his declaration. They had heard what the nobility did to people they deemed traitors in the past. He was a courageous man, and he knew what the right choice was, even if every fiber of his being was tense from anger.

There was a minute of absolute silence.

Slowly, he allowed himself to look up. There were still flecks of mud on his face.

The saw that he Baron was not looking at him. In fact, the Baron's gaze seemed to be focused intently on the woman lying on the ground. His wife, Alyssa.

It was a look of lust.

The Baron licked his lips in a stereotypical fashion as he contemplated what to do next.

"Hm.. I like her courage. It seems we were too hasty."

He shot an angry look at one of his bodyguards.

"I hope for your sake that you did not damage her face"

He then motioned for the guards to pick her up.

"We will take her back to my manor for healing. And since I am feeling gracious, I will not charge you the fees."

The Baron spoke in a haughty manner. His grubby fingers were rubbing against each other and a sinister smile spread across his face. It was evident what his true intentions were.

"No!"

"I mean."

"That would not be necessary my Lordship. The wound is merely a superficial cut. We should be able to manage on our own. There is no need for you to trouble yourself for lowly villagers such as ourselves"

There was another round of uncomfortable silence.

"YOU DARE!-"

"-YOU DARE REJECT MY GRACIOUS OFFER!"

The Baron was very angry. The long trek into this small, smelly village had already soured his mood. His expensive clothing was stained with dirt and mud. And two people had the gall to speak out against him.

"TAKE HER!"

The guards dismounted and moved towards the woman lying on the ground. They unsheathed their swords and walked menacingly towards her.

Craig knew that he had to act now before it was too late. If he let them take her, it was doubtful that he would ever see his beloved wife again. Immediately, multiple options ran through his mind. He was unarmed and had no weapons. His hand to hand combat skills were lacking, and he would not be able to fend off the armed bodyguards. The Baron was extremely angry, and it was unlikely that further groveling would suffice. He also doubted that offering more grain and wheat would appease him. Craig was also poor, and could not afford a bribe or offering. There was only one thing he could do.

He had to distract the Baron and take his attention off his wife. There were only a few emotions in this world more powerful than lust. That would be rage.

Craig found a small piece of dirt and flung it as hard as he could at the man on the high horse.

"Splat!"

There was a third round of silence.

Everyone's eyes were fixated on the Baron.

His face was scarlet with rage and humiliation. Flakes of dirt and mud was dripping down the left side of his face.

Everyone's gaze then went back to Craig. They knew that in a few moments, he would no longer be counted amongst the living.

"KILL HIM!"

Craig was prepared for this. He turned to run, but the guard was unexpectedly fast, and was in front of him in a manner of seconds.

 _A martial art?_

There was a glint of a short sword being thrusted with pierce precision.

Craig involuntarily closed his eyes.

When he opened them, he saw his wife in front of him, and a large blade protruding from her chest.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

He wailed. It was a horrifying cry.

The bodyguard withdrew his blade and backed away in shock.

Craig was unable to catch his wife's body before it fell to the ground. She had thrown herself in danger to save him, and now she was dead. There were no heartwarming last words. There was no loving embrace. There was no touch of comfort before she passed on. There would be no gazing into her eyes as she departed from the world. She was simply dead.

Losing all rational thought, he rushed to tackle the guard. There was a brief skirmish, but even with the strength bestowed upon him by his intense rage, it could not overcome the disciplined strength of the body guard in front of him.

"Murderer! Did everyone see that! His man provoked me, and now this woman is dead. Murderer! Guards, seize him and put him in chains at once!"

There was no need to elaborate on what happened next. Craig was immediately shackled and heavily beaten until he lost any will to resist. They proceeded to take the filled wagons and departed the village. As they stopped in E-Rantel to sell the extra goods, they dropped him off at the local prison. After all, there was no need to bring him all the way back to the prison in the Baron's domain. There would be one less mouth to feed.

..

…

...

* * *

That was over 5 years ago.

…

A thick mist hung heavy in the air, coating him with a thin layer of dew. It almost seemed like the physical embodiment of the tense atmosphere surrounding the city. Normally, the area would be filled with the rambunctious yelling of merchants and the unruly banter of the general populace. However, for the last few months, there was only an uncomfortable silence.

Craig scowled, peering down into his mug. Was it the weight of his burden, or was it the drink. He took another sip, letting the bitter and fruity taste seep onto his tongue.

The taste was nauseating.

It was hard to imagine that he had been looking forward for a mug of mead for the last 5 years, and he couldn't stand the taste. The dark mood seemed to impart a bitter taste onto everything he ate and drank.

Freedom did not taste sweet in the slightest.

The weight of his grief was getting heavier.

He glanced at the think callouses and scars that years of wearing iron clad manacles had carved onto his skin and wondering if he had truly cast off the chains.

When the Sorcerer King invaded, the penitentiary was abandoned. The guards fled their posts without a second thought. They did not bother releasing anyone because there would have been no point once the hoard of undead arrived. Everyone would have starved to death if it was not for several people who seized the opportunity to come and free their falsely accused relatives that were imprisoned there. Eventually, they decided to unshackle the entire prison as it would be a small condolence before they were all forced into servitude by the undead ruler.

At least, that was what they thought.

It has been three months since the invasion.

Craig had taken refuge in one the many abandoned houses that littered E-Rantel. The mug he was drinking from was not his, and neither was the mead. The house was empty aside from some heavy furniture, cheap utensils, spare clothes, and some scant provisions. The alcohol was usually left behind as the large barrels were heavy and provided a low nourishment to weight ratio.

He took another look around the abandoned house.

In another time, he would have been ecstatic at living in such a place. A sturdy roof. A strong wall. Stone tiled flooring. A proper bed. Even with the paltry furnishings, it was a significant step up from the life he was previously living.

He involuntarily quivered.

If he had been brought back to the Baron's domain, he would have surely been dead, either through execution or simply through starvation or torture. In particular, the jail in Marquis Blumlash, who was the Baron's superior, was known to be utilizing prisoners for hard labor in the mythril and gold mines that were present in abundance in his domain. As such, many of them saw execution as merciful. In comparison to the rest of the Re-Estize Kingdom, the prison in E-Rantel was fair. They treated their prisoners reasonably well, although daily punishments and starvation was still rather common.

Craig's body bore many scars and bruises from the beatings. He was glad that only simple food and drink was left behind. He was not sure if he would have been able to tolerate a full diet immediately upon his escape.

His thoughts were interrupted by the ominous toiling of bells.

 _It must be time_

Craig got up gingerly and walked outside. Dejected, he slowly made his way to the direction of the bell. His gait was short and heavy as if the manacles on his legs were still tightly secured. His feet dragged with each step. His eyes were empty and his arms were drooping listlessly at his sides. His fiery red hair was rumpled and slovenly. His rust colored beard was unkempt. As he made his way, he saw many people exiting their houses in a similar fashion. Slowly, they shuffled their way to the direction of the toiling bells.

Finally, they made their way to a large central courtyard in the middle of the city. They saw several striking and foreboding figures standing on the podium. Slowly, the courtyard started filling.

…

…

 _Uwah! They look just like zombies!_

Ainz Ooal Gown was standing next to Albedo and Ainzach, and they were all encompassed by a guard of Cherubim Gate Keepers.

The succubus seemed to have an enamored look as she gazed at the avatar of Death.

Then, she turned around to address the growing crowd. As she did, many people's eyes began to widen and fill with life as they marveled at this 'World Class Beauty'. However, the words that emanated from her beautiful lips did not match her stunning countenance.

"Maggots! Kneel before the great ruler, Ainz Ooal Gown! I will cut down anyone who dares lift their head when the Supreme One is speaking. You should all be grateful that his Majesty has decided to directly address you lowly worms at all!"

Instantly, they all fell to their knees.

If anyone had been foolish enough to lift their heads, they would have seen Ainz admonishingly placing his hand on Albedo's shoulder, and the look of embarrassment and shame on her alabaster face. Naturally, anyone who was foolhardy enough to do that would have been dead.

"Rise!"

Ainz commanded.

The crowd slowly stood up.

They said he was a magic caster who massacred the Royal Army.

They said he was a cold blooded creature who looked like an undead being.

They said he was a monster that enjoyed bathing in the fresh blood of children.

These were the circulating malicious rumors that surrounded the Overlord of Death.

After three months under his rule, they have gleaned several truths about this enigmatic figure. Firstly, it seemed like he truly was one of the undead as evidenced by the legion of monstrosities that he commanded. Second, it seemed that he was capable of great and terrible power, and was able to summon even angels to do his bidding. Finally, the creature did not seem to be bound by the traditional characteristics of the undead. That is to say, they did not sense the intense hatred of all living things, which were pathognomonic for beings of the undead race.

His rule in E-Rantel was astonishingly peaceful. However, it felt hollow. It felt artificial.

The streets were filled with people but they trotted on lifelessly.

The stores were staffed but there were hardly any customers.

The inns were open but vacant.

The death knights patrolled the streets but no one would dare misbehave in front of such fearsome creatures.

The bars were as quiet as the graveyard as people drank away their uncertainties.

The food and drink tasted bland as everyone wondered if the meal would be their last.

The fields were plowed and harvested but they did not know if they would be able to keep the harvest, or if he would suddenly renege on his word.

Even as they lived and breathed, this truly felt like the city of the dead.

Suddenly, the six angels flew overhead. The seraphim had four large white wings and wore an intricate armor that bore many holy runes. They radiated a celestial aura and had a massive round shield on their left hands. On their right hand was a lance that seemed to be made entirely of righteous fire.

Rains of scrolls fell down to the general populace.

Craig was amazed that the fire did not burn the parchment.

 _Well, it is holy fire._

Curious, he unraveled the scroll. He scowled. Unfortunately, he was illiterate and could not read. He looked around, and saw similar grimaces of frustration.

Expecting this, Ainz addressed the crowd.

"For those of you who do not understand what is written on the parchment, I will summarize it for you"

"Essentially, I do not wish to rule over an empty city. I will not tolerate a city under MY RULE to fall into disrepair. As citizens of MY KINGDOM, you will prosper and succeed, for if you do not, it would bring shame to the name Ainz Ooal Gown."

"As such, I will host a martial arts tournament in two months' time. There will be no magic involved, or any undead creatures. We will see who is the strongest warrior amongst the three nations. The prize for first place will be one hundred thousand gold pieces."

The exorbitant sum astounded everyone there.

 _One hundred thousand?_

 _Impossible!_

 _Do we even have that much money?_

 _Where would he get the gold form?_

Immediately, fears of unreasonable taxes and levies crept into the minds of the people there. They had expected this.

 _It seems even undead nobility are no different._

Craig thought to himself.

He had still not forgotten his anger and hatred for the noble that butchered his wife. While the flames of rage were thoroughly beaten out of him in prison, he still felt the smoldering fire in his heart. The image of his beloved flashed in his eyes.

Sensing a disturbance, Ainz promptly soothed their qualms.

"Naturally, I will shoulder this cost alone. There is no need for my citizens to burden themselves with this."

 _What?!_

 _Why would he do that. Is he that rich?_

 _How much wealth does he possess?_

Sensing even more suspicion, Ainz rapidly added.

"The reason I have agreed to fund this endeavor is for my entertainment. I have slumbered for a long time, and I wish to see the best of what the three nations have in terms of individual combat strength. Incidentally, it has also been brought to my attention that there have been a lack of progress and development in this city. With this tournament, I will also bring in many visitors and merchants into the city. Naturally, any taxes collected will be deposited into the state coffers."

Understanding appeared on everyone's faces. It made sense, and this appeased their fears.

"In addition, we will be re-opening the adventurer's guild and assimilate it into a state program."

There was an audible gasp from the crowd.

Ainz then motioned for Ainzach, the guild master of the adventurer's guild in E-Rantel, to speak.

As he explained the lofty goal and vision he had previously discussed with the guild master, Ainz took the opportunity to scan the audience.

There were looks of surprise. There were looks of speechlessness. There were looks of astonishment. However, there were no looks of sadness, of anger, of disgust, or of tension. In fact, there was no negative reactions at all.

Ainz Ooal Gown was pleased, and he felt less nervous. He was a mere salaryman, and was not used to presenting in such a large crowd. If it was not for his level 100 undead body and the associated passive, he would have not been able to orate this well.

Seeing as Ainzach was at the end of his speech, Ainz took over.

"We are expected a tremendous influx of people in the upcoming few months. As such, some of the abandoned houses will be repurposed for temporarily lodgings for contestants. We will require large scale renovations to many parts of the city, and infrastructure will need to be upgraded."

Suddenly, Ainz voice took on a powerful commanding aura.

"Do NOT squander this opportunity"

"If you wish to leave this city, then you may do so and I will not stop you!"

"However, know that there will be many new jobs opening with the overhaul of the city. We will need to build an arena, as well as restock our food supplies. We will need managers, maintenance workers, and construction workers."

Ainz also said something that caught Craig's attention.

"I will be revamping the old caste system. There will be no nobles or slaves. There will only be people who serve me, and I will award them authority as I see fit based on loyalty and caliber. Your human lineages mean nothing to me!"

"As long as you are a citizen of my Sorcerous Kingdom, you will be judged as equals and promoted based on merit and virtue alone!"

Looks of disbelief flowed through the crowd in a torrential storm. Some even forgot their place and cried aloud in surprise.

If Ainz had made this proclamation before, they would have assumed he meant that every race was beneath him and this his servants. However, after living under his rule for the last few months and witnessing the conviction in his voice.

"I have no interest in worthless people in my kingdom. If you intend to participate in the tournament, then train your body! If you intend to live productive lives, then aid us in the construction and you will be compensated accordingly! If you intend to seek treasure and adventure, then prepare yourselves and join the guild!"

"I have removed all your bindings and shackles!

"SEIZE THIS OPPORTUNITY AND FIND YOUR PLACE IN SOCIETY!

Everyone was awestruck. They looked at the avatar of Death with admiration and reverence. It was not through an area of effect skill, or magical charm that drew them in. It was not the charisma or the imposing and omnipotent figure that Ainz seemed to personify. Rather, it was his firm conviction and honesty that won their hearts.

His words did not seem to carry the pompousness of many noble rulers. In fact, it was almost as if he was a common man himself who had risen in power through hard work and determination. His speech was relatable and easy to understand. His goals were lofty but did not feel unattainable. He had already proven that he was capable of feats that transcended mythology. His words seemed to radiate power and confidence that seemed to shake the ground.

Craig straitened to his full height.

He looked at his hands. They were trembling.

He touched his lips. They were quivering.

He looked at his wrists. They felt light, and even the scars and callouses from years of being in manacles seemed to fade before his eyes.

He felt the side of his face. Tears were flowing freely from his eyes.

He felt his legs, and they were wobbly and he struggled to remain standing.

His breathing was fast and shallow.

 _An honest living? Without the nonsense of nobility and familial standing? A place where everyone can start as equals and climb based on effort and talent? He could accept the rule of the Sorcerer King if it meant living in a society like that, even if the ruler was an undead being._

A single clap rang out. It was a surreal. It was a sound that had not been heard in this city for many months. Another chorus of claps followed, and soon the applause reverberated the entire city. And then the intensity of the riotous applause, which all present thought could not get any greater, rose several more notches

Craig Elliot smiled for the first time in 5 years.

Finally, he looked up at the sky, as if finally seeing it for the first time.

The sun was bright.

It was very bright.

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…


	10. Adventures of Mare Ch3

Update: Just fixed some canon stuff

* * *

Despite the frigid nocturnal winds blowing fiercely outside, it seemed to Marquis Raevan that the inside of his well-lit and warm manor was in fact, colder. It had been at least an hour since he had the [Message] conservation with the unknown entity.

His entire body was convulsing.

 _I'm a traitor_

 _I have betrayed the Kingdom I had worked so many years to protect_

He could not help but laugh.

It was a maniacal laugh.

 _All those years of political fencing. All those years of playing on both sides of the battlefield to keep this shambles of a Kingdom together. All those years struggling to keep the schism from ripping apart the country. And in one night, all that effort was lost._

 _Just like when those one hundred thousand souls were lost in the massacre at Katze Plains._

Marquis Raevan was a ruthless and cunning man. He was a loyal commander, and a fierce tactician. He had a serpentine like visage and possessed the highest authority amongst the Six Great Noble Houses.

He continued to laugh.

It was pathetic.

Fortunately, the sound proof walls of the manor's library prevented the guards outside from hearing his madness.

After a while, he calmed himself down. He thought about his son. His reason for living. His reason for all the schemes and effort he had put in for all those years. Everything he had done, he had done to ensure a better future for his son.

 _I need to see him one more time._

The image of his son sleeping upstairs appeared in his mind. The picture of innocence. The colorful hand drawn pictures decorating the walls in his bedroom. The toys stacked neatly in the corner. The blanket, hand crafted by his mother, held tightly in his arms as he slept curled in the bed.

The Marquis steadied himself. He picked up the scrolls that were on the ground and carefully stacked them on the table. Then he went to the body length mirror and rectified his clothing. He even lifted up his hair on his forehead to check the injury from when he struck himself.

 _Just a faint bruise. Barely noticeable._

He then approached the exit and pushed open the large double doors.

The two guards stationed outside, garbed in the attire of the House of Raevan, were surprised at his sudden exit. They bowed deeply.

"My Liege.."

One of the guards paused.

 _There was something different about the Marquis..h_ e thought curiously.

He then shook his head. As a guard, it was not his place.

"My Liege, I hope your time inside went well. Where would you be going to next? Will you need an escort?"

Marquis Raevan raised his hand in a dismissive gesture.

The other guard interjected.

"Oh! Pardon me, my Liege! A gift from the Crown Prince has arrived. We have delivered it to the royal quarters."

The Marquis was not surprised. He had expected Zanac to try to convince him to return to the capital. In fact, he had ignored all the [Messages] and had sent all the runners he had dispatched back to the palace.

This was also not the first gift he had tried to send.

Crown Prince Zanac Varleon Igana Ryle Vaiself.

He inherited the title after the unfortunate demise of his brother, Prince Barbro. If the situation was different, the Marquis would have been happy at the situation. He had been secretly supporting Prince Zanac for some time. Amongst the three siblings, he was actually quite sensible and compassionate. However, it was unlikely that he was capable of appropriately handling the current grim turn of events.

The Marquis made his way back to the royal quarters. When he arrived, he was stunned by the array of items on the table.

It was an assortment of stylish and aristocratic children's clothing. There were also several boxes of treats and candy. There was an aroma of roasted caramel and sumptuous chocolate. There were also several yellow vials with a sickly sweet citrus fragrance emanating from them. Finally, there was a simple silver ring etched with runes that he could not decipher. A note next to it said it was a ring of protection and designed to ward away evil. The flickering of the hearth fire and the unusual shadows that it cast lent a surreal and majestic aura to the goods lying on the table. Alongside the opulent and tantalizing exhibition of goods and clothing was a piece of parchment which was stamped with the royal family seal, signifying the items have been screened and genuinely originated from the palace.

He was impressed. He had not expected the Prince to be this cunning. However, regardless of the lavish gifts and desperate pleas, the Marquis was firm in his conviction. He would not be returning to the capital.

He glanced at the impressive array of items on the table.

 _Still.. there was no reason to deprive his son._

If the Marquis had given closer attention, he would have noticed that the shadows seemed to be moving independent of the cackling of the fire.

...

...

...

* * *

Mare was overwhelmed by the sight.

The city was certainly much smaller than E-Rantel, but it was bustling with life.

The first thing he noticed was the fresh and gentle sea breeze.

E-Rantel was a land-locked city. The Great Tomb of Nazarick, Carne Village, and the Forest of Tob were also land locked areas. The only countries that bordered the sea was the West side of the Re-Estize Kingdom, the North side of the Roble Holy Kingdom, and the South side of the Agrand Council Alliance.

Over a hundred boats lined the waterfront. The harbor was crowded with ships. Fishing boats rowed back and forth while the dockhands hastily unloaded goods. There were massive whaling barges that were tied to the port. Their fat-bellied hulls were coated with black tar and they rose up and down with the shifting tide. Smaller, agile ships were being poled by ferrymen and were navigated expertly amongst the multitude of ships in the harbor.

Mare looked across the horizon.

He saw manors and arbors and granaries, brick storehouses and merchant stalls, taverns and inns and houses of varying sizes and height. He saw fisheries and ships and factories. He saw windmills and guard towers and solider barracks. He saw churches and chapels and orphanages. He saw bakeries and store houses and stables. There were public bath houses as well. He could even hear the clamor of the fish market at the distance.

And above it all, was the most imposing structure in the center of the city, the Noble's Manor.

Mare was draped in an inconspicuous grey cloak as to not stand out. Typically, it was the standard policy for any floor guardian who leaves Nazarick to be escorted by at least six level 75 guards. However, this was also supposed to be a covert mission for Mare as a test of independence. The city had been thoroughly scouted by the shadow demons. Furthermore, as insurance, he also carried Avarice and Generosity in his possession, although it was not currently equipped.

His cover, if needed, was that of a dark elf servant of a high ranking noble of the Baharuth Empire, and subsequently, as a vassal state of the Sorcerous Kingdom, had been ordered to recruit architects for a project in the Sorcerous Kingdom.

Ideally, they should be willing consultants. However, if not, even identifying suitable candidates would be beneficial. After all, there were many other methods of persuasion.

Mare was given several rules by the Sorcerer King.

 _Run if there is danger._

 _Avoid killing anybody._

 _Stay inconspicuous whenever possible._

Mare recited those words in his head.

 _Well, time to get started._

As Mare walked amongst the crowd, he drew the attention of the general populace.

 _What a pretty girl_

 _She must be one of the slaves in the Empire_

 _Who do you think is the Noble that owns her?_

 _Where is she from?_

 _She will surely break the hearts of many people when she grows up_

He tried his best to ignore them and pushed on.

The market was unusually crowded despite the late hour.

There was an impressive assortment of chain mail, swords, shields, daggers, and arrows on display. Large burly men with grease stained, gritty clothing stood at their stalls while hawking their wares. Adventures were hopping from stall after stall in search for their ideal equipment.

Mare did not bother exploring the market. He was not interested. He knew exactly where he need to go.

He steeled himself, and entered the store.

It was a sizable structure, and the reception hall was surprisingly spacious. There were drafts and miniature models scattered around the room. Mare could hear the sound of scribes furiously sketching in the rooms beyond.

Technology in the New World was similar to that of the Medieval Ages, but the advancement of magic had allowed for significant progress. Although frontier villages were often build haphazardly around fertile soil, trade routes, or sources of food, the major cities needed careful planning. There were over nine million citizens in the Re-Estize Kingdom, and proper city planning and organization was crucial. In particular, houses with more than one story often required an expert consultant. Naturally, only Nobles and the wealthy would be able to build structures taller than one story, and thus the height of a building often denoted social standing.

Mare approached the receptionist.

 _What a beautiful child_

"How may I assist you, Young Master?"

"…Um..well…I'm looking for the…uhh.. chief architect.."

"Do you have an appointment?"

"..um..well.. No, sorry!"

"I see. Well, my sincerest apologies, but the Chief has a very busy schedule. If you like, I could arrange for a visit next week?"

"um…"

He thought about what he was instructed to do should this occur. Mare struggled to recall the lessons and advice given to him by Albedo and Ainz-sama.

He placed a single metallic object on the counter. He had to stand on his tip-toes due to the height.

It was a platinum coin with the insignia of a wheel stamped on it.

In the New World, there were four different types of currency: Copper, Silver, Gold, and Platinum. They were in ascending value and in denominations of ten. The exchange rate between the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Baharuth Empire was 1:1. At the moment, the Sorcerous Kingdom did not have a national currency and adopted both of them as viable units of currency.

Platinum coins were rarely used and often reserved for trading in matters of the state. They were also useful bribes.

The receptionist understood the gesture.

"I see. Very well, follow me Young Master."

He was lead upstairs into a lavish study where a robust looking man sat behind a magnificent mahogany and oak table.

"Sir, we have a client wishing to-"

Mare did not wait for the secretary to finish her introductions. He immediately strode forth and placed several torn pieces of paper on the table.

It was a complex and detailed drawing of an underground dungeon.

There were sketches and measurements as well as various statistics scribbled on the other pages.

 _Impetuous behavior was a sign of power and prestige. That was what Ainz-sama taught me about dealing with humans._

The large man's eyes widened with astonishment, then narrowed as he studied the documents in front of him. It was not something he had seen before.

There were design plans detailing large contraptions and hidden tunnels.

There were plans detailing massive holding pens and cages.

There were plans detailing complicated passage ways and secret puzzles.

 _It was complete madness._

"What is this?!"

Mare produced another piece of parchment, and placed it on the table.

The hefty man picked it up and perused it closely.

There were several long minutes of uncomfortable silence while he scrutinized the script.

Due to Mare's predisposition to stuttering and his lack of experience in negotiations, it was felt by Albedo and Ainz that the ideal solution was preparing these documents beforehand.

"Ainzach? That is the famous adventurer isn't it? Then that means-"

The boisterous man's eyes narrowed on several key words.

"E-Rantel?! Sorcerous Kingdom ?!"

He shot an angry look at the receptionist who was standing at the door way. Her eyes were wide with terror as if screaming:

 _I didn't know!_

The large man exasperatedly looked around the room, although he was not particularly sure what he was searching for. He had heard tales of the city that was subjugated by the Sorcerer King. He knew of the fearsome creatures that patrolled its streets. Finally, he resigned himself and replied.

"What do you require of me, Young Master?"

Mare plucked the final piece of parchment from his cloak.

It was a contract.

The plump man analyzed the document closely.

"The scale of this project.. It would be extremely expensive!"

Mare withdrew a pouch of platinum coins and tossed it on the table. The heavy clink of coins resounded across the room.

"But! I will have to abandon all my current clients!"

Another pouch landed with a loud 'thud' on the wooden table.

"But! I will have to move to E-Rantel. It would take time and money!"

Another pouch landed on the table.

"My men! Yes! They will need to be convinced to accompany-"

Another pouch landed on the table.

The man rattled of several more excuses, and each time, it was met with more coins.

He was running out of excuses. Large beads of sweat rolled down his temple.

Even in this world, money was the solution to just about anything. Even death can be cheated with enough wealth.

Panicked, he peered across the table to Mare, and was taken aback by what he saw.

There was a dangerous, nonchalant glint in his eyes.

He let out a defeated sigh, and withdrew a note from his pocket and stamped it with his seal.

"Please give this to the Marquis. I will need to notify him of my departure."

And with that, Mare set off.

When he was certain that the young dark elf child was out of earshot, the large man trembled with fear and awe.

 _What sort of nation would send a child to negotiate something like this?_

 _No, that child was a ruthless and cunning tactician._

 _He had managed to diplomatically intimidate and coerced him without speaking a SINGLE word._

 _What sort of monsters are there in this Sorcerous Kingdom?_

Once he was back in the town square, Mare let out a relieved yet timid sigh.

"…I…did…it!..."

...

...

* * *

Meanwhile, somewhere in the city.

Olga turned away and seemed to be only half listening. But Jakarn knew the Templar assassin had a way of appearing not to be aware when, in fact, she was taking account of every word. He recognized this behavior as it was a talent that he himself had perfected in his missions as part of the Windflower Scripture, the espionage covert branch of the Slane Theocracy elite forces.

"It should be time to meet our client."

...

...

* * *

Mare arrived at the imposing manor at the center of the city. He was not impressed.

"Its…so..small..compared..to..Nazarick"

He was ushered through an opulent hallway before finally into a small waiting room where he was informed to wait until the Marquis was finished with his meeting. There were four stewards clad in chain mail armor with decorative pole-arms and the insignia of the Six Noble houses on their breast plate waiting in the room with Mare.

Unlike the last visit, he had made an appointment this time; made with the aid and influence of the architect.

There was a commotion outside. After what sounded like a brief scuffle, the door burst open to reveal a small child, no older than eight, running excitedly into the room with several attendants hurrying hesitatingly behind him.

The boy seemed to be breathing heavily as if each breath was painful to take, but yet he persisted.

He wore an affluent attire fitting for someone of high social standing. An ornamental blue silk shirt with silver trimmings and dark green shorts secured with a white fine cotton belt.

There was a beaming smile on his face and Mare could notice a boyish smile with missing front teeth.

"I want to see the dark elf!"

"Where is she!"

When the boy saw Mare, his eyes widened.

It was the same look that Mare had seen many times in the eyes of Albedo and Shalltear when they gazed upon the Supreme One.

Although Mare did not realize it, in that moment, the small child had fallen in love with him.

The young boy ran towards Mare and embraced him tightly. The force of the impact threw off the grey cloak that Mare was wearing, revealing his blue dragon scale, leather full body suit and his matching short white skirt which exposed his slender thighs.

In truth, Mare could have easily avoided the tackle, but he was not sure on how to deal with the child.

"…um.."

"….um.."

"…..can…you…let…go..of..me?"

On closer inspection, Mare noticed the labored breathing and ragged chest movements of the young child.

 _Is he sick?_

Suddenly, the door burst open and three figures strode in.

"This will just take a moment-"

All three figures froze.

Recognition flared in the eyes of the two figures flanking Marquis Raevan.

"You!"

"What is the meaning of this!?"

They immediately drew their weapons.

The hulking crusader drew a large and fearsome looking mace. It glowed with power as intricate runes glowed on the shaft.

The young slender female drew a long fencing foil, and it appeared as if a toxin coated the blade.

Reflexively, the guards in the room took an offensive stance and gripped their pole-arms.

The boy hugging Mare cried in fright, his breathing even more labored.

Marquis Raevan was stunned. He did not understand what had transpired.

 _Why would they react so dramatically to an elf?_

 _Were the demi-humans despised that much in the Slane Theocracy?_

 _Why was his son here?_

"Traitor!"

"It seems we have been betrayed!"

He was now utterly confused.

"I did no such-"

"Liar! The proof is right in front of us. An agent of the Sorcerer King!"

Marquis Raevan was bewildered.

 _Why would a representative of the Sorcerer King be here?_

 _Have I been discovered?_

 _Impossible! I was so careful._

"Eliminate the threat."

Without saying as much, Jakarn agreed.

Since working together, the Templar had only displayed a single minded determination of performing tasks that vindicated her religion and venerated her order's patrons, the Four Gods. An ally of the undead could always be considered an enemy, and so are their supporters, whether man, woman, or child.

The 'Boogeymen' of the Temple. A well-earned title.

Regardless of whether the Marquis had willingly or unwillingly betrayed them, the fact was that they were compromised. There could be many others waiting in ambush outside. The best course action was to strike decisively and then flee in the chaos. Furthermore, the enemy was a mere child and unguarded. They had observed him back in E-Rantel. He was a magic caster. There might not be another ideal opportunity such as this ever again.

Olga dashed forward.

"STOP! That's my son!"

 _A hostage? Or a distraction? It did not matter to her_

She had seen the way these two children had embraced each other.

She had fought countless foes in many different scenarios. There was only one way to deal with people with hostages or those who were protecting others.

Her strike would be accurate and true.

The first thrust was a feint, and Mare had expertly side-stepped it while maneuvering the young child in his arms.

 _So the dark elf saved the child? Then they truly were betrayed._

However, this was also an opportunity. Moving with such a burden would greatly diminish ones fighting and evasion capabilities.

The second thrust was the decisive one.

[Greater Ability Boost]

[Full Throttle]

[Piercing Strike]

It would be a thrust that even Clementine would have been proud of.

Olga aimed for Mare's weakness.

There was no way he would be able to evade in time with the child in tow.

And even if he did not.

 _Everyone had always underestimated the puncturing power of her blade._

A pitiful howl filled the room.

It originated from Marquis Raevan.

Olga's blade had pierced through the little boy.

It was supposed to have gone through all the way and punctured Mare as well, but..

 _Hard._

 _Very hard._

It was as if she had struck a wall of adamantine.

The shock wave reverberated through her arm, and threated to fracture her hand.

[Dull Pain]

[Reinforce Body]

She immediately jumped back and retreated.

 _What sort of armor is he wearing?_

"..Um..why are you doing..uh..this?"

There was no emotion in his face when he let the bleeding body of the young boy fall to the ground.

 _So cold! As expected of a servant of the Undead Tyrant_

While Mare had a shy and cowardly personality, it did not affect his loyalty to Ainz or his ability to carry out his duties, no matter how cold-blooded they may be.

Another howl arose from the Marquis as he saw his son's body fall to the ground.

As if jolted from the shock, the guards began to surround Olga and Jakarn.

However-

With the 'crunch' of bone and flesh splinting, the mace tore through chainmail and armor alike as Jakarn wielded it with great strength and fury.

Olga quickly dispensed of the two guards that attempted to retreat and call for reinforcements.

 _Be careful! This creature is stronger than expected._

 _Then I will use my strongest attack._

Jakarn prepared himself. He was a hulking figure of a crusader. He stood like a fortress, girded for war. It was easy to imagine him equipped with an impressive set of full heavy armor, complete with a thick wood-and-iron shield, more than half his height, which bore on its face the carved head of a mighty dragon being struck down, along with a great helm tucked underneath his left arm, and in that hand, a massive two handed flail with the symbol of the Slane Theocracy, an intricate candle with six lights and a holy wreath, emblazoned on a tabard across his barrel chest.

This time, however, he was equipped with a large mace. He was not wearing heavy cumbersome armor, and thus his movements would be quicker and more agile.

[Greater Ability Boost]

[Strong Assault]

[Heavy Blow]

[Major Brutality]

[Major Savagery]

With this blow, even an adamantine adventurer would find it difficult to absorb without significant damage.

Jakarn took several massive strides and raised his colossal arms. It was a perfect blow, and he was proud of it.

The mace struck with terrific force.

Had the target been of Jakarn himself, every bone in his body would have been shattered by the bludgeoning strike.

However, his opponent was one of the Floor Guardians of the Great Tomb of Nazarick.

Mare was strong. He was strong even amongst the other NPCs of Nazarick. His statistics were quite balanced in both physical and magical aspects. Fully equipped with the gauntlets Avarice and Generosity, he would be a challenge even for Shalltear.

However, because of his age and inexperience, he lacked the full combat prowess of the other warrior NPCs in Nazarick.

Mare casually raised his right arm to block the bludgeoning blow.

Jakarn was blown back from the tremendous impact.

The mace flew from his hands and landed some distance away.

His hands were mangled from the shock but he did not notice the pain as the stared at Mare in disbelief

 _Completely unharmed?!_

But that was not altogether true.

Jakarn had struck a very painful and devastating blow.

He just did not realize it yet.


	11. Adventures of Mare Ch4

Update: Just edited some grammar/canon stuff

* * *

Despite the temperature, Jakarn felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple.

Mare fell silent.

Slowly, the mood changed.

The air reverberated and rippled as if the room itself had shrunk and then suddenly expanded.

The rage was palpable.

A tremendous overbearing aura threatened to engulf the room.

Loud cracks were heard as even the air itself began to fracture under the weight and pressure.

Jakarn looked at Mare.

He seemed to be getting bigger.

No, that's not right.

The room was shrinking.

No, that was not right either.

In a phenomena that defied logic, Mare seemed to be encompassing the entire room and yet not at the same time.

His body seemed to be engulfed in a sphere of pure energy.

Then Jakarn saw it.

...

...

On Mare's right wrist, there was a small pink watch.

And there was a large crack on the glass.

…

…

Jakarn's tried to run, but his legs were paralyzed.

He tried to talk, but no words would form.

He tried to turn away, but he was incapacitated.

He tried to avert his gaze, but even the muscles in his eyes were stunned by the intense presence emanating from the fearsome figure before him.

They had awakened a slumbering beast.

It was a terrifying predator, and they had foolishly provoked its wrath.

Olga was desperately mouthing prayers.

Tears flowed freely from her eyes.

She was a member of the temple's execution squad, but she has now been utterly consumed by fear.

A pair of blue and green eyes.

One was as deep as the ocean, and as blue as sapphires. The other was profound as the lush forests, and as green as emeralds. Both of them blazed with murderous intent.

Suddenly, Jakarn could not breathe.

The air seemed heavy, and his lungs were too weak to move.

The crushing pressure of Mare's bloodlust was suffocating.

Mare took a step forward.

The earth seemed to groan under his weight.

Mare took another step forward.

Faint tremors could be felt on the ground.

Meanwhile, Jakarn's eyes started to turn white. His lips were cyanosed.

Mare was angry.

Created by Bukubukuchagama, he was designed to have a shy and timid personality. He often stutters when speaking and maintained a subservient demeanor during conversations. On most days, he liked to nap and spend the time reading books.

This was an unfamiliar emotion to him.

He struggled to control it.

His breathing was fast, and his chest rose and fell rapidly.

His fists were clenched tightly, and trembling.

His lips were quivering, and no words would come out.

His mind was blank, and replaced with a torrential void of rage.

Mare was angry.

He was very angry.

He raised a single arm up.

The blood lust intensified.

The space around him grumbled, protested, and moaned as if it was about to be swallowed by an all-encompassing vortex.

As the floor guardian, Mare specialized in devastating area of effect magic, as evidenced by his feat of covering the entirety of the underground tomb of Nazarick with sand and dirt.

He opened his palm.

Intricate magic circles began to form underneath him.

10th tier magic.

The effect would even envelop the town itself.

This night would have forever been known as the Tragedy of the West

"Twin Maximise Magic: Gaia's Judgemen-"

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

...

"Mare!"

He froze.

Even in the abyss of hatred and anger that swallowed him, he would never have mistaken that voice.

"Mare!"

"MARE!"

….

….

"AURA?!"

He immediately looked around the room while searching for the source of the voice.

He did not see her.

"Ooi! Hey! Mare!"

Suddenly he realized where the origin of his sister's voice came from. It was [Message].

The terrible presence that threatened to fragment the room instantly dissipated. The enormous bloodlust that fractured the very air was scattered.

"What happened?! We were worried. The shadow demon that we sent to guard you got scared off!"

"What is going on over there?!"

There was silence.

A cascade of emotion welled up within him.

And then Mare cried.

His sobs were loud and wet and filled the room.

He cried for several minutes until his throat was hoarse.

Finally, he calmed himself down.

A soft, gentle voice spoke to him.

"Mare. Tell me what happened."

It was his Master, the supreme one, Ainz Ooal Gown.

Holding back his sniffles, Mare explained the situation.

"We can fix Bukubukuchagama's watch with magic, Mare. Do not worry."

When he broached the topic of the two agents, he detected a faint trace of animosity in Ainz's voice.

"I see. Is there anyone else in the room?"

He glanced around the room and saw four crumpled figures on the ground. The other guards were dead.

"No."

"Mare. Can you bring the four back to Nazarick?"

He nodded.

"Bring him back, and we will ask him why his guests decided to attack a servant of Nazarick"

There was anger in his voice.

"Yes, Ainz-sama"

He approached the body of the young child first, and gently draped him across his shoulder. He then proceeded to the Marquis, who had passed out from the blood lust, and draped him across his other shoulder.

Finally, he walked towards the bodies of the two Slane Theocracy agents. They had also collapsed from the pressure of his murderous aura.

Suddenly, Mare stopped and panicked.

"AINZ-SAMA!"

"Huh? What is it, Mare?"

"THEY'RE DEAD!"

It seems that they had suffocated and succumbed to the intense pressure exerted by Mare's fury. Their eyes were still open, but hollow and lifeless, while their mouths were transfixed in fear.

"That is unfortunate. Regardless, transport their bodies to Nazarick. They might be useful sources of information if we revive them. If they choose to decline the resurrection, we could always use the bodies for experimentation."

A [Gate] appeared in the center of the room. It was a swirling vortex of reds and blues. There was no one left in the room to witness the comical scene of a small petite young dark elf child effortlessly carry four people through the whirling portal.

…

…

…

[If it has been a while, go back and read the middle of Chapter 2 as it sets up the following scene]

Renner Theiere Chardelon Ryle Vaiself had just finished explaining the declaration that the Sorcerer King had just made several weeks ago.

"Whhhaaatttt!?"

"That bastard!"

The Crown prince was livid.

The Martial Arts Tournament was a thinly veiled, nefarious scheme to tempt strong people to the Sorcerous Kingdom. By offering glory and wealth, he had effectively lured talent away from the Kingdom without bloodshed or war. The Sorcerer King was utilizing his vast wealth to drain the Kingdom of its most important resource: its people.

The Kingdom had intentionally left E-Rantel in its current state. It was a scorched earth tactic, a military strategy that specifically deprived territory that would have certainly be lost to the enemy of anything useful. In the case of E-Rantel, they had purposely evacuated all important and talented individuals, and only left the old, the infirm, the poor, and the prisoners in order to increase the Sorcerer's Kings burden.

However, by hosting this tournament, it would be diplomatically difficult for the Kingdom to stop the voluntary outflow of talent. If they issued a formal policy barring any emigration, it would be a political scandal and could easily be used as a casus belli for an attack.

 _Still.. I cannot just sit by while my Kingdom is slowly being drained away by that infernal creature._

He re-read the reward for achieving first place.

"The victor will receive the title of Warrior-Captain and will be awarded land and a title of nobility from both the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Sorcerous Kingdom."

"I will most certainly NOT award the victor even a morsel of hand, much less a title of nobility!"

He was seething in rage.

"Who agreed to this? My father?!"

"No dear brother. It was me."

The Crown prince was flabbergasted. Eventually, his bewilderment turned into anger.

"-And on whose authority, Renner!"

She simply smiled.

'Because this would be in our Kingdom's best interest"

He was taken aback.

"Explain!"

He spat menacingly.

"It is obvious, my dear brother. I intend to marry the victor."

Once again, Zanac was dumbfounded.

"What?"

"I intend to marry the victor."

He was not a moron like his older brother. By standard terms, his intellect was above average and he had years of experience in political scheming and fencing. However, in comparison to his sister, or even the Blood Emperor, he was but a mere child in terms of cunning and deceit.

Noticing his dismayed look, Renner innocently elaborated.

"Naturally, it would be a political marriage."

A political marriage, or a marriage of convenience, was a strategy often employed by royalty or nobility of rival nations to ensure a forced peace through familial and blood ties. These unions were utilized for both strategic and diplomatic reasons, and neither age nor love was taken into consideration. For instance, Marquis Bowlrob's daughter was the eldest prince's wife, and if he had been alive and inherited the throne, the Marquis would have been anointed head of the Six Great Families.

Renner continued onward.

"By marrying the victor who would possess both noble titles, and hence allegiances to both Kingdoms, we will be able to secure solid diplomatic ties and hopefully stave off utter destruction by that detestable creature."

"Their military might far surpass our own. Their wealth is beyond imagination. We are outclassed in every important aspect of war. The only thing we can hope is to secure a firm tie to that nation and establish amicable relations until other nations can come to our aid."

"With the Baharuth Empire agreeing to be a vassal state, it would only be a matter of time before the Sorcerer King sets his sights on the Kingdom."

 _Then it occurred to him_

 _It made sense._

 _As expected of his brilliant sister._

 _The 'Monster'_

Renner curtsied.

"If that is all, dear brother, I would like to return to my quarters"

…

…

…

When Renner opened the door to her bedroom, she was surprised by what she saw.

Sitting on the chair in front of the coffee table was a bewitching allure that rivalled her own.

If she was to represent the golden beauty of the sun, then the person sitting across from her would be considered to represent the captivating beauty of the twilight.

Renner bowed deeply.

"I did not expect to see you here, Albedo-sama"

The succubus did not reply. She merely motioned for Renner to sit down.

Despite her shock, she hid it well and gracefully sat down as if there was nothing amidst. She also did not bother looking around the room as she was certain that Albedo had likely secured the room against any potential eavesdroppers.

"Since my servants were unaware of your arrival, I assume that you teleported here, Albedo-sama?"

"That is correct."

"May I inquire as to the reason for this unexpected pleasure?"

Albedo smiled, and placed two objects on the table.

One was a yellow vial with a sickly sweet citrus fragrance emanating from it.

The other was a simple silver etched ring.

"I felt that I should return these to you"

Renner did not seem surprised by the appearance of the items. In fact, she had expected it. It meant that the plan was progressing as expected.

"I assume the child is dead, and the Marquis' spirit is broken?"

She had predicted that the Marquis would try to contact the Slane Theocracy in order to secure a safe haven for his family. It was evident from his recent isolationist behaviors and his well-known love for his son. There was only one logical option after witnessing the genocide at Katze Plains. The Marquis still possessed a tremendous amount of influence, was a close confidant of the Crown Prince and the King, and had an envious trove of scandalous information and secrets that could be used to another nation's advantage. He was also a political rival, and needed to be eliminated.

The demise of his son was supposed to encourage the Marquis to make careless mistakes and irrational decisions. It would have made it easier to expose his deceit.

Albedo did not answer. Instead, she proclaimed.

"The Marquis has sworn loyalty to Ainz Ooal Gown."

Renner's eyes widened in astonishment.

 _That was too soon!_

"This is unexpected. I would have assumed that his will would be broken after the demise of his son. What would have triggered him to swear fealty to our cause?"

"I did not say the child is dead. He has been revived through the grace of the Supreme One."

Understanding flared on Renner's face.

"I see."

"In order to save his son, the Marquis voluntarily promised his eternal servitude?"

It did not make sense.

"Why did he not go to the Slane Theocracy? They are well versed in revival magic, and would have gladly accepted his plea."

Albedo reached over the table and picked up the half empty vial.

"What is this strange liquid?"

"It is a powerful medicinal substance that can be a potent irritant in high doses. The plasma concentration would reach critical levels in a child far earlier as compared to an adult. Furthermore, it would be undetectable by standard magical means as it is not technically a poison. I also added in excessive sweeteners so that adults would find the taste repugnant"

"When consumed in excessive doses, it induces inflammation and irritation in the layers of the heart. This leads to unbearable chest pain. If left unchecked, the lining of the heart thickens, which limits the hearts ability to function normally. Eventually, from the friction, there would be fluid accumulation inside the heart lining and finally death."

Albedo eyed the liquid suspiciously.

"It seems like a very slow way to kill someone"

"I did not want to arouse suspicion. The symptoms mimic a natural disease pattern that can be often seen after a fever or infection. If the mind is convinced that the body it is dying from natural causes, it is less likely to be willing to accept magical revival "

Albedo picked up the simple silver etched ring. Runes glowed faintly when she held it to the light.

"This looks familiar. Is this the ring that you requested from Demiurge?"

"Yes."

[Ring of Minor Magic Immunity]

It granted the user the ability to be immune to all tier 1 and tier 2 magical spells. It was a coveted item by adventurers, but was utterly useless for the floor guardians of Nazarick as most of them had in-built passive abilities that nullified magic of even tier 5 spells.

Even in Yggdrasil, this was considered a useless item.

Although it granted magic immunity, it was unable to differentiate harmful or beneficial magic.

In other words, it conferred complete magical immunity to the bearer, whether it was an offensive spell, buff spell, or a healing spell.

"I suspect the Temple Priests were very perplexed as to why their healing spells did not affect the child. They would have likely attributed it to natural disease or a mental illness"

Albedo placed the ring back on the table.

"It was not the poison or disease that killed the child."

"It seems that my Lord felt that the Marquis would be a valuable asset, and made some adjustments to your scheme, Renner"

Albedo then explained the events that had transpired.

Renner was awestruck. Her usual calm demeanor was momentarily shattered. However, she expertly recomposed herself.

 _The Sorcerer King had managed to sow distrust amongst the Marquis and the Slane Theogracy agents. Furthermore, he had somehow managed to provoke them into slaying the child. The agents could be killed in the guise of self-defense, and the Slane Theocracy's act of aggression could be used for political warfare. With the untimely disappearance of their agents, it was likely that the Slane Theocracy would believe that the Marquis had betrayed them and no longer trust him. As such, the Marquis could no longer depend on them for assistance. With his child dead, and his deceit exposed, there was only one option left._

Renner shuddered.

 _Who was this Sorcerer King?_

 _He truly was a being that surpassed even her prodigious intellect and cunning._

Renner got up and genuflected in front of Albedo.

"Please forward my thanks to Ainz-sama"

After exchanging several other pleasantries, Albedo departed through [Gate].

Once Renner was certain that she had left, she approached her closet and removed a small box from the secret compartment.

It was an ornate and intricately decorated box. It had elegant golden trimmings around the edges and sharp black markings which formed a gothic like web across all surfaces of the box except for the lid. In place of an opening, there was only a ruby red flawless surface like a maw of an ancient dwelling beast.

There was no apparent hinges or keyhole, just an eerie crimson reflective surface that gave the impression of a sanguine mirror. It bore several layers of seals that were impossible to open without fulfilling specific conditions. At the moment, one of those conditions had been met.

The onyx black, web-like markings had receded back, giving the top of the box an appearance of the mouth of a lamprey.

Renner smiled.

Only two more conditions were left until the black webs would recede all the way, unlocking the seal.

Whether it was just a trick of the light, or simply the imagination of the shadow demons that were sent to observe and guard her, one could almost swear that fangs were visible in that smile.

…

…

…

Meanwhile, back in the Great Tomb of Nazarick.

Albedo exited the portal and strolled down the opulent hall while humming.

"Ku ku ku… To think Ainz-sama had taught that far ahead!"

"He truly is befitting to be the ruler of Nazarick!"

She let out a squeak of delight.

Her black wings flapped passionately.

 _I need to know what of woman Ainz-sama wants._

 _I need to know what his interests are._

She clutched a red leather bound book close to her maiden chest.

 _I need to study this book_


	12. Before the Tournament Ch1

Proofread by: PervySageChuck (thanks!)

* * *

It was the 8th week since the declaration of the Martial Arts Tournament was made.

The sun was casting a long shadow on an ant hill on the ground. On first glance, it might have appeared that they were marching in a haphazard fashion, but their movements were organized and intelligent. They moved like water flowing through the cracks of a rock, a single stream with divine purpose and obscene power.

A single ant is just an ant, but together they could build monumental structures taller than a hundred ants stacked together. Each ant was separate, yet united. They worked together in choreographed harmony and ferocious mechanical efficiency. They were motivated by a single unifying purpose; to build up the colony. Elaborate passageways sprawled in every direction deep underground as they worked with a single purpose.

And so, every man, woman, or child, despite each individual having their own unique background, ambitions, abilities, and motives, worked with single minded determination and motivation akin to colony ants in remodeling E-Rantel in preparation for the upcoming tournament.

Unified in their cause, the residents of E-Rantel worked day and night to the best of their capabilities in making E-Rantel a better place. They were not forced to do so. They slept when they needed sleep. They rested when they needed rest. They ate when they needed to eat.

The men mostly worked in all jobs that required heavy manual labor and construction. When they slept, the stone golems continued their work. The unstoppable juggernauts needed no rest.

The women mostly worked in domestic responsibilities such as preparing food stocks, tending to livestock, and brewing, baking, and manufacturing textiles. When they slept, the undead dealt with the routine and menial tasks such as transcribing and preparing materials.

The children were taught matters of tourism and hospitality.

Everyone had their role to play, living or undead.

For two months, E-Rantel was like an ant hill.

And in 60 days, the city was transformed.

..

…

The morning had dawned clear and cold, with a crispness that hinted at the end of summer.

The day of reckoning was drawing near.

Eorlund rode in to the city, nervous with excitement.

The breath of men and horse mingled, steaming, in the cold morning air as others like him rode alongside him as they neared the fabled city.

The only sounds that were heard were the groaning of the wheels of loaded wagons filled to the brim with an assortment of merchandise as they were dragged by harnessed horses.

They marched on the dirt and gravel path to the main city gates.

It was neither as large or as imposing as the gates of the capital.

The gilded metal and oiled oak doors were left open and unguarded.

They were no stewards or attendants stationed outside.

There were no guards to screen the wagons and visitors.

Typically, the entrance of any city would be noisy from the chaos and discord as men shouted and horses snorted as they made their way inside.

However, today was different.

It was eerily silent.

The high brick walls surrounding the fortress city of E-Rantel was overgrown with pale ivy.

Everyone was anxious.

Even the animals sensed the tension.

The early dawn sunlight cast a surreal glow on the city that was both beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

The leaves were turning again, and the chill of autumn swept across them.

They were about to enter the fabled city.

They were about to enter the city ruled by the Undead King.

They were about to enter E-Rantel.

…

…

…

A flood of relief washed over Eorlund as the sight of a people standing in the streets chatting came into view.

It was odd that such a simple sight would have granted him so much comfort.

However, for now, he was desperate for any sign of normality. Of humanity.

He heard similar sighs of relief around him.

Soon, as he approached the crowd, the sounds of banter and chitchat reached him, and he felt at ease.

 _Time to get to work!_

Eorlund was a scribe. He worked for the Re-Estize Kingdom Chronicles. In other words, he was the modern day equivalent of a journalist.

In truth, most of his work would eventually be heavily edited and censored. Controlling the flow of information was power, after all. Paper was expensive, and the printing press was still in its primitive stages. The official version would most likely be filled with propaganda and re-written to suit the political objectives of the ruling power. However, every article needed a grain of truth in them. And that was his role.

However, it has been rumored that the original articles were often sent in secret to independent publishers and smuggled to the general public.

Those were only rumors though.

Being caught would mean imprisonment or execution.

Eorlund's body was tired. His muscles ached and his joints were sore. His hands were rough and raw from reining the horse. His coat was splattered with mud and his shoes were dirty with grass, pollen, and manure.

But he felt full of energy.

He was excited.

 _Still… I need to find an inn._

The Shining Golden Pavilion was one of the most impressive structures in E-Rantel. It was a luxurious inn where only nobles and the wealthy could afford to live in. The walls were rich with history and their beds were warm, soft, and covered in silk. The restaurant served some of the most expensive and extravagant dishes money could buy.

But that was not his destination.

With the meager allowance provided by the state, he could only afford the bare minimum.

Eorlund stopped and studied a worn map provided to him by a colleague.

 _I hope the city layout has not changed too much in the last few months._

Eventually, he reached his destination.

It was a small brick and mortar but quaint little inn near the outer edges of the middle wall.

He dismounted and handed over the reins to the stable boy nearby.

When he entered the inn and approached the reception table, he was shocked by what he saw.

 _A lich?_

 _No, that's not it._

The receptionist was a bent and elderly grey man.

His eyes were grey.

His beard was grey.

His hair was grey.

His nails were grey.

His robes were grey.

His teeth were grey.

His skin was grey.

The grey man lifted his arm, and pointed a single bony grey finger at Eorlund.

He expected the cavernous shriek of the dead.

Instead-

"Hey! Boy! Don't just stand there like an imbecile! Do you need a room or not?"

…

…

Eorlund stepped outside and breathed in the fresh air.

He was a middle aged man with a scrawny beard. He was tall and lanky, but also thin. He wore a simple brown leather coat lined with fur. His breeches were a darker shade of brown. Ink stains were visible and his wrists and his fingers were bent. His hair was tied in a short pony tail and fastened with string. His brows furrowed in a permanent squint from years of being bent over and writing under low light conditions.

But his skin was not pale or free of blemishes like other scribes. On the contrary, he was tan and fine scars pockmarked his body.

This was a man who was used to adventuring and taking risks to get his story.

…

His shoulders felt good with the heavy weight of his back pack lifted. He had stored all of his cumbersome belongings in his room.

 _Time to explore the city._

He clutched his notebook tightly.

 _First, I should check out the Adventurer's Guild._

…

…

On his way, he eavesdropped on the conversations held by the crowd.

Everything seemed superficial and bland.

It was mostly people exchanging pleasantries and monotonous banter.

It felt artificial and forced.

It felt flavorless and boring.

It was as if they were still uncomfortable with the thought of actually being here.

The fresh new arrivals were even worse.

Most of them remained completely silent, as if they were not sure if they were allowed to speak.

In contrast, the locals were unexpectedly carefree and jolly. They were beacons of light that cut through the thick fog of cowardice and uneasiness.

Slowly but surely, they would dispel the mist of doubt and dread.

 _…_

Eorlund arrived at the Adventurers Guild.

When he went inside, he was greeted with the scene of heavily armed individuals chatting in a lively manner while comparing weapons and armor. Their conversations were loud and boisterous. They babbled on about monsters, quests, political scandals, and adventure. They complained about money, lodgings, and the weather. They jabbered on about magical items, shopping, and clothing. They gossiped about the competition and bragged about their skills and talents.

In other words, they were completely calm and at ease.

He felt as if he had stepped through a portal into another world.

The atmosphere was completely different from outside.

 _This must be why they are called 'Adventurers'._

Eorlund approached the counter, and then he saw them. It was unmistakable as to who they were.

A monstrously large woman who radiated strength and courage.

A young woman with long blonde hair with a sword as black as night.

A small girl with a blood red robe and an enigmatic mask.

And twin girls adorned with a blue and red ribbons respectively.

The pride of the Re-Estize Kingdom.

The adamantite adventurer party, Blue Rose.

Eorlund hastily looked around.

He did not see 'Red Drop', the second adamantite adventurer party of the Re-Estize Kingdom.

 _It seems they have decided not to attend the tournament. A pity._

He shook the feelings of reverence and awe as he remembered the reason he came to the Adventurers Building. He continued to approach the counter when he heard it.

"WAIT! What do you mean Momon isn't here today?"

The sudden declaration drew the attention of many of the adventurers in the room.

A loud, collective sigh came from the crowd.

Eorlund turned around with a disappointed look on his face.

 _Maybe next time. I will come back tomorrow._

He had never laid eyes on the famous adventurer, Momon the Black. Momon the Dark Hero. Momon the adamantite adventurer from the team 'Darkness'.

His glorious deeds were well publicized and renowned. They said he was a true hero. They said he was humble and kind. They said his strength rivalled or even surpassed the heroes of old. They said he slayed a giant basilisk. They said he fought in single combat with a demon lord and won. His feats were legendary and peerless.

Eorlund was a skeptical man. It was part and parcel of his occupation.

He would have loved to meet this illustrious hero.

As he exited the Adventurer's Hall, he heard a loud 'Ahhhhhh" and a chorus of laughter.

…

…

 _Alright, next stop!_

He was hungry. His stomach growled and grumbled. It was time for lunch.

He peered into his coin pouch and saw a depressing sight.

 _Nothing fancy today._

He strolled down the street, taking care to make careful notes of his experiences.

He noted the sight of small cottages and large manors.

He noted the sound of travelling carriages and wagons.

He noted the smells from taverns and food stalls.

He noted the feeling of the cold breeze of the late summer air.

He noted the taste of-

He noted everything his senses provided him.

Finally, something caught his eye. It was an odd sight.

There were two large reptilian creatures walking on the street.

 _Lizardmen?!_

They were significantly taller than the humans around them. They had webbed feet and dark green and charcoal grey scales that were similar to those of a crocodile. They had humanoid fingers with the exception of short claws protruding from the tips.

They strode with confidence on the street. One of them was armed with a fearsome looking dagger that seemed to emit a hissing mist.

 _Were they slaves? Or adventurers? Outcasts?_

Eorlund struggled to recall the culture and traditions of these Lizard creatures.

Before he could do so, they had disappeared from his sight.

 _Oh well…_

Then another baffling scene presented itself.

A small band of armed goblins marched forth with military-like discipline. They were about ½ the height of a fully grown human adult, but sturdy and well-built. Rippling muscles and sinew could be seen from underneath their chain mail armor. In the center, standing over them, was a small nervous-looking village girl.

 _A hostage?_

 _No, that wasn't right._

The girl was nervous and frightened, but it did not seem to be due to the goblins. If it was not for the surreal sight, he would have thought she was afraid because she was a village girl in a big city.

As the formation drew nearer, Eorlund caught snippets of conversation between the goblins and the girl.

"Make way for our Queen!"

"Excuse us! Thank you!"

"We will protect you with our lives, General Enri!"

"Guys, stop it! People are staring!"

"Make way for General Enri!"

 _…_

 _..._

Eorlund was perplexed.

 _Firstly, it was the Lizardmen. and now it was goblins and a human goblin general?!_

 _What's next? A war troll?_

 _…_

While pondering this thought, Eorlund somehow managed to unconsciously navigate himself and ended up in front of an unfamiliar building.

It was an unassuming structure with a red roof tiles and a rug on the front steps that spelled 'Welcome'. There was an alluring scent that wafted from inside. It stimulated pangs of hunger from his stomach.

 _Perhaps this is how I ended up here._

He walked inside and was greeted with a stronger aroma of stewed vegetables and broiled beef. It had a savory scent.

There were five circular wooden tables in the living room with chairs to seat five people each.

That itself was an impressive sight, as carving and sanding a table into a perfect circle was a laborious task.

He looked around the room. It seemed to have been previously a house which had been repurposed into an eatery. A café of sorts.

Two of the tables were already seated.

Eorlund eyed their meals. It looked to be some sort of hearty potato and vegetable stew. There were also slices of bread slathered with butter, and several goblets of a sweet citrus smelling drink. The cutlery was made of a sparkling metal with elaborate engravings while the plates were porcelain with golden rims. The extravagance seemed out of place in their current setting.

He sat himself down in one of the empty tables and looked at the counter.

He had to stop himself from drooling. It was not from the food or the appetizing aroma.

There was a girl that surpassed loveliness. She had luscious black hair tied with a frilly white ribbon that gleamed in the light like a silver tiara. An azure blue neck corset was tightly wrapped around her small neck and a cerulean ribbon was pinned in front of her shirt. She wore an elegant maid outfit with matching glasses. Her complexion was flawless and she held herself up with discipline and authority.

It was a goddess in a maid's attire.

Eorlund meekly raised his hand, and said.

"May I order, please?"

The celestial beauty shot him a piercing look that reminded him of a school teacher.

She then gracefully took out a small hand-held bell and rang it.

The figure that emerged from behind the counter left him speechless.

…

…

…

A hooded figure hovered towards his direction. Remnants of skin was stretched tightly across its face like a leather mask. It had hollow sockets for eyes and its rotten teeth were visible within its lipless smile. Desiccated skin seemed to envelop its skeletal body, wrapping its decaying muscles and sinew. Remnants of a tattered robe were hanging off its rotten flesh. It stood at least 8 feet tall and radiated with a malicious aura. Swatches of darkness seemed to be encircling the revenant like a thin fog.

This was an unholy abomination.

An evil, depraved undead being who specialized in foul black magic.

This was a lich.

And it was wearing a Maid's uniform.

…

…

...

"How. May. I. Serve?"

The voice emitted from its rotten lips was harsh and raspy.

…

Eorlund was paralyzed with fear. He barely managed to muster the strength to clutch his heart, as if to reassure himself that it was still beating.

Beads of sweat rolled down his temples and his entire body began to tremble uncontrollably. He felt a knot in his throat as he struggled and gasped for air.

He was unable to gauge the reactions of the other diners as his eyes were transfixed on the horrendous figure hovering menacingly towards him.

He began to silently mouth prayer to the Four Gods.

He was not a religious man, but today was different.

Today, he was about to be consumed by a being that was evil incarnate.

Today, he was about to die.

…

…

As if beckoned by his silent prayers, the dazzling goddess got up and stretched out a beautiful alabaster hand that radiated warmth and benevolence…

-and violently pulled the terrifying lich back.

The sheer force propelled the lich into the counter as it crashed with a loud 'thud'.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!"

"My sincerest apologies, Yuri-Alpha-sama!"

"This one was only trying to help."

The creature bowed deeply while gesturing at the maid attire.

"This is not your role!"

"Who gave you that?!"

"Where is Tsuare?!"

The lich replied.

"Tsuare-sama is in the kitchen. She was afraid and hence requested this one to assist."

"WHAT?! That girl! This entire thing was supposed to teach her how to interact with other humans."

"She needs to confront her fears!"

"Summon her at once!"

The undead lich bowed and hovered dejectedly back to the kitchen.

It looked sad.

Eorlund would have felt pity for the creature if there was not a dark pool of liquid on his chair.

…

…

…


	13. Before the Tournament Ch2

Eorlund shamefully walked back to the inn with a wide based gait.

 _So the rumors were true._

 _This city was filled with the undead..._

 _Well, at least the meal was good…_

He arrived back in the inn and wordlessly entered his room and changed his clothing. Feeling renewed, he walked back outside to continue his investigative journey.

 _I need a stiff drink._

The café did not serve alcohol, and after that traumatizing experience, Eorlund was desperate.

He found the tavern with astonishing speed and accuracy. It was rather well known in the past for its congregations of copper and iron ranked adventurers. It had several bedrooms upstairs and the place was often teeming with people. It was also famous for being the place where the Dark Hero Momon started his foothold in the city when he began as a lowly copper plate adventurer.

However, fate was cruel to poor Eorlund.

When he arrived at the entrance of the tavern, he was stunned by another fearsome and nightmarish sight.

Two terrifying existences stood guard near the entrance. They were roughly 7 ½ feet tall and clad in heavy black armor with large spiky pauldrons. A massive and imposing tower shield covered more than ¾ of its body while it grasped a flamberge in its right hand. A flamberge was a flame-like sword with wavy undulating edges that was designed to induce unpleasant vibrations in an attacker's sword when the blades clashed. It was typically a two handed blade, but the menacing figure was capable of wielding it with just one hand. It was a powerful testament to its strength. It wore a tattered jet-black cloak and a rotting face peered from the its helm.

They were Death Knights.

And they were guarding the tavern.

At this point, Eorlund was both mentally and physically exhausted.

Steeling himself and facing straight ahead, he strolled into the bar courageously while trying to avoid looking at the ghastly figures.

He was treated to a roar of applause as he walked in.

"WE HAVE ANOTHER BRAVE SOUL!"

"Congrats boy!"

"Yeah!"

Several burly men got up from their seats and patted him on the back. In the background, there was a chorus of cheers and he could see mugs being raised in a toasting gesture. Everyone's attention seemed to be on him.

Most of them were armed with light armor and weapons.

 _These must be the adventurers._

Trying his best to hide the quivering, he approached the bar and sat on the closest empty stool.

The bartender had a wide, shit eating grin on his face.

His head was completely shaved with not a single strand of hair remaining. His face was tough and held features like that of a beast. It was pockmarked with old scars. His arms were muscular and thick and were also covered in scars that Eorlund could only assume came from beasts or swords. He looked more like a mercenary than a bartender, no matter how you look at it. He spoke in a hoarse voice that reminded him of a cracked bell.

"The answer is yes. We do serve alcohol."

….

….

Eorlund took a long, drawn out swig from the flagon.

Immediately, he felt the warmth and heat returning to his body.

His nerves steadied, and his trembling ceased.

 _Bitter!_

He looked around. The tavern was filled with boisterous and loud people. The windows were closed so the interior was somewhat dark. The inside of the tavern was surprisingly spacious. The counter was backed by shelves that contained dozens of bottles and barrels of alcohol. A spiral staircase lead to the bedrooms upstairs.

In the past, before the subjugation of E-Rantel by the Sorcerer King, the floor was covered in scraps of mysterious food and unknown liquids while the walls were stained with chunks of some moldy substance.

It was still the case.

"A night is five coppers. The food's oatmeal and vegetables; meat's an extra copper. Might be getting days-old bread instead of the oatmeal."

Eorlund shook his head.

"Just here for a drink. I am already staying somewhere else"

A look of surprise appeared on his face.

"Oh, I had you figured for an adventurer!"

"You're a brave one to get past those Death Knights."

He then laughed and walked away.

Eorlund looked to his right.

There was a man with fiery red hair and a gruff, unshaven beard. Innumerable freckles marked his skin from the days he spent in the sun. His face was gaunt with protuberant cheek bones, but he looked healthy. He wore a dirty grey cotton shirt and brown pants.

 _No, that is a white shirt that was coated with rock sediment and dust._

His arms were slim but muscular, and there were thick callouses and scars on his wrists as if heavy manacles had been shackled there for years.

Noticing his stare, Craig Elliot replied.

"I was a prisoner here in E-Rantel before the occupation. We were left for dead by the guards. Now I'm gainfully employed by the state."

He smiled.

Curiosity welled inside Eorlund. He had always wanted to talk to someone who had firsthand experience living in E-Rantel. He immediately drew out his notepad and placed his ink and quill on the table.

"Can you tell me about life here in the city?"

Craig smiled and kept silent.

He gestured at his empty tankard.

Eorlund understood, and withdrew a single copper coin and placed it on the table.

Craig smiled and shook his head.

"This will take a while."

Eorlund placed several more copper coins on the table.

…

…

…

It was evening when they finished their conversation.

Throughout the entire exchange, Eorlund furiously scribbled while rapidly firing questions like a deranged lunatic. He could barely contain his excitement. There were talks of undead patrolling the streets. They were discussions about Death Knights acting as city guards. There were discussions about Soul Eaters acting as common work mules. They were discussions about liches acting as public workers.

It sounded so utterly ridiculous, it had to be true.

…

…

"Let me show you something."

Craig took one last drink from his flagon, and motioned for Eorlund to follow him to the exit.

The light of the sunset spilled across the ground, laying dark red stripes upon the inner city walls of E-Rantel. They bore tapestries with an insignia that Eorlund could only assume was the sigil of the Sorcerer King. It was vivid red with gold and white and black.

And so the two set forth; a drunkard who reeked with the smell of alcohol and a bent over scribe who was furiously scribbling the details of every object he encountered.

…

…

The market was unusually crowded despite the late hour.

Craig took out his coin pouch and draped it loosely at his side. It was in a very vulnerable position.

This action prompted Eorlund to frown. It seems his partner indeed had too much to drink.

"What do you think you are doing? You will get it pickpocketed if you leave it like that."

He reached forward to grab the pouch as a demonstration.

A strong hand gripped his wrist before he could proceed.

The strength was surprising considering how much alcohol the man had recently drank.

"No. Just watch."

Together, they pushed through the crowds while he was showing off his coin pouch in an exaggerated manner.

 _Although… the drunk swagger might not be an act._

As he passed the food section, the fragrant aroma of roasted pork and crisp croissants wafted in the air and stimulated their appetites.

Then, they passed through the spice section, where the exotic scents provided even more tantalizing temptations.

Finally, they reached the end of the long row of stalls where only a few peddlers remained while hawking their wares and trinkets.

Triumphantly, Craig help up his coin pouch.

Eorlund was impressed.

"See! Hic… This place is safe!"

"Hic… This is what happens to crime when the guards are… hic… Death Knights!"

Craig promptly fell face first onto the ground.

…

…

…

* * *

In another place at another time

The city was bustling with movement as merchants, tourists, peasants, guards, and officials went about their day to day routine in the capital of the Baharuth Empire. The clatter of carriages, the groans of horses, and the bickering and chatter of the populace was synonymous with the vibrant and lively city. The buildings were large, old, moldy, and full of history.

In the commoner's district, there was a lingering scent of manure with each strong gust of wind as it swept through the public communal lavatory, mixed along with the odour of sweat emanating from the residents as they came home from their gruelling day of hard manual labour.

Life was difficult for a commoner; even in the capital.

Certainly, when compared to the frontier villages, the quality of life is exponentially better, but it was still a harsh and difficult life. While there was no threat of monster attacks, abductions, or bandit raids, it was still a struggle to survive day by day.

Wages were still low, and food was scarce. Any outward displays of panhandling or begging would be met with swift imprisonment. It was also a crime for failure to maintain a minimum standard of hygiene and beauty. This was part of the public policy to improve the image of the city, and was an added expenditure for the peasants. The cost of living was also significantly higher due to the limited space and high cost of land and housing. The number of workplace injuries were lower, but the cost of healing in temples was still out of reach for most residents. The number of diseases and communicable illnesses was higher due to the greater population density.

Esmerelda was about 10 years old. She wore a rather simple brown dress that was two sizes too large, and grey cotton pants. There were multiple patches sewn on it where the holes were hastily fixed. The dress was itchy and uncomfortable, but compared to the flour sacks that most village children wore in the frontier villages, it was infinitely better. Children grew rapidly, and most families could not afford to buy suitable clothing only to discard them after one or two years. The exchange of clothing was common in the community, and so were hand-me-downs.

Currently, Esmerelda was delivering flowers. The concept of gifting and owning flowers was something only the wealthy and the nobility partook in. Once cut, the lifespan of a flower was fleeting, and thus displaying them was a symbol of wealth. None the less, it was an opportunity for young children to make money. It was easy work.

Her family was poor. Her mother passed away at a young age, and her father suffered a significant back injury at work several years ago. Since then, he has been struggling to make ends meet for the family. Emeralda also had a sister.

Her name was Caitlyn, and she was widely considered the Saint of the Slums.

She was kind, gentle, and humble. She was around 17 years of age, but displayed a maturity level far beyond that. In addition, she was also exceptionally beautiful. Her hair was a lustrous black that was cut short for functional reasons. She had blue eyes which gleamed like gemstones, and her body was toned and muscular.

In the slums, it was easy to cultivate unfavorable personality traits. Since the environment was harsh and unforgiving, there was always a selfish mentality within the community. Desperation often forces people to extreme measures. Generosity and kindness was a luxury.

Yet Caitlyn was unaffected by that. She was unblemished.

As such, she had also attracted the infatuation and adulation of numerous individuals. She was around the age of marriage, and there was no shortage of suitors. From the men who grew up in the same impoverished background to wealthy nobles who wanted a pretty toy, she received countless romantic advances. Naturally, there were also many lucrative offers if she would agree to prostitute herself.

However, there was one man that stood out amongst the rest.

He was part of the Nobility, and of high standing.

Initially, there was widespread skepticism. It was practically unheard of for a member of the nobility to marry a commoner. It was far more common for them to court commoners as mistresses or simply as prostitutes. Furthermore, it was not uncommon for them to purchase young girls from poor families as servants and toys, although this practice was frowned upon in the capital. However, it is a different story in the outlier villages.

Despite this, to the surprise of everyone, the man was different.

He was humble. He was gentle. He did not possess the pompousness and egotistical personality that many of his peers of similar social standing shared. He understood the large disparity between the social classes, and legitimately wished for better living conditions for everyone.

Their relationship was difficult and fraught with turmoil. Initially, they met in secret. He would often request Caitlyn to deliver flowers to his house, and they would talk and meet there. This soon progressed to bolder advances such as sending her gifts and clothing.

Caitlyn was very reluctant to meet in public. She knew that his family and peers would look down upon him if he associated with common rabble such as her. She knew that his family would be against their relationship. She knew that it would certainly stir conflict and trouble.

Yet he did not care. He was well aware of the potential repercussions of their relationship, but he also genuinely loved her. He was able to recognize and appreciate her gentle qualities and strong character.

And with that, their relationship grew.

Naturally, his family tried to intervene, but they were hesitant about openly voicing their discontent. The last thing they wanted was for this to evolve into a large scandal.

Esmerelda was jealous. She did not like the fact that her beloved sister's attention was taken away from her. While their relationship did not change, the amount of time they spent together had diminished significantly. She felt a dark hatred stir in her heart, and she despised herself for it. She knew that the truth was undeniable; the man was the ideal partner for her sister. They were both kindred spirits.

Eventually, she grew to accept him. Although she was reluctant to admit it, he truly did make her happy.

On one bright and sunny day, Caitlyn announced to her family that she was engaged. The joy and happiness was palpable. They spent a majority of their meagre savings on celebration and drink on that day. Esmerelda had never seen her sister smile as much as she did on that morning.

The following week, they found Caitlyn dead in a pool of blood.

She had slit her wrists.

The entire community was shocked and outraged. Everybody was surprised. She had been so happy. With an obsessive fervor, they scoured her belongings looking for clues that would explain the motive of her actions on that tragic day.

It was Esmerelda that found the box of letters.

The contents were horrifying and nauseating.

It was an entire box filled with hundreds of threatening and degrading letters sent by the family of the nobleman. They were dating back from the time they had started seeing each other. Each letter was filled with hate and malice. Apparently, Caitlyn had been shouldering this burden alone for this entire time period. It was a crushing and devastating revelation. They also suspected that she even kept this a secret from her lover.

However, it was the final letter that disturbed them.

It was a letter from the nobleman himself.

It was a letter that he was going to call off the engagement. He mentioned about how he would still take care of her financially and emotionally as a mistress. He mentioned that he still loved her, but would not be able to declare it publicly. It was filled with misplaced good intent. It broke her heart.

The mood was dark that day. Everyone was angry and upset. They were angry at the noble man. They were angry at his family. They were angry about the social gap between classes. But most of all, they were angry at themselves for not realizing Caitlyns silent suffering.

The funeral was a quiet and private affair. When the noble man found out, he was devastated and heart broken. He had attempted to observe the funeral but was chased away. They knew his regret and sorrow was sincere, but they could not forgive him just yet.

Since then, Esmerelda had been harboring a deep-seated hatred and grudge against the nobility. It was a hate that made her strong. It was a hate that helped her survive the last 10 years.

When she witnessed the obscene outburst by the young blonde noblewoman, she was furious.

The noblewoman was strikingly beautiful. She had long blonde locks of hair that rested gracefully on her shoulders. She had well defined cheek bones and ivory skin that showed her wealth and prestige. It was the type of unblemished and pale skin that only someone who has never worked a day in their life would have. Her attire was similarly exorbitant. She wore a verdant green silk dress with gold and silver embroidery. Her eyes were a piercing blue that radiated arrogance and pride. She was beautiful. She was rich. And she was well-aware of it.

"This drink is disgusting!"

There was a loud sound of fine porcelain breaking as it was thrown on the ground.

"This city is repulsive. Everything smells bad, and the people are grossly incompetent!"

She held her head high and contorted her face in a disgusted manner.

"I can't eat this filth!"

"I'm going back to my room!"

With that statement, she proceeded to storm off upstairs to her bedroom.

It was the epitome of a spoiled brat.

Grumblings of discontent began to stir across the restaurant.

A group of shady looking men standing at the doorway wore smirks on their faces.

If it was not for a well-dressed elderly gentleman butler who publically apologized, the mood would have turned to a much darker tone.

Esmerelda felt her heart flutter in her chest as she witnessed the eloquence and articulate display by the noble gentleman. His butler uniform was well-pressed, and his hair and beard were finely trimmed and immaculately groomed. He broadcasted a refined and disciplined aura. Despite his age, she felt strangely attracted to him.

She glanced around the room. She was not alone. It seemed that while the gazes of the males were transfixed on the beauty of the noble girl, the women's gazes were glued to the butler.

Esmerelda felt another twinge of anger mixed with pity.

 _Why would such a man be forced to cater to the whims of that spoiled brat?_

She turned her attention to the group of shady looking men at the door. Her instinct screamed 'ambush'. She knew that they would surely attempt to waylay the carriage as it left the capital. The group had been stalking the pair for some time now, and had seen the wealth that the noblewoman had flaunted.

Esmerelda was conflicted. She was torn between her adoration of the butler and her hatred of the noblewoman.

 _What should I do?_

Meanwhile, upstairs, it would seem that the role of the butler and noble woman was reversed.

Solution was once again bowing in front of Sebas while apologizing for her outburst.

He raised his white gloved hand and waived her off. He had a frown on his face.

"Is it really necessary to provoke them so?"

"My apologies, Sebas-sama, but was it not Ainz-sama's orders that we try to expand our knowledge of the Martial Arts and capture anyone who might be of benefit to Nazarick?"

"That is true, but our efforts thus far have been failures. It would seem that the tournament would be a better way to study and observe the Martial Arts than capturing these vagabonds"

"We can clarify with Ainz-sama when we return to E-Rantel"

Although both Sebas and Solution have returned to E-Rantel on several occasions in the last few weeks through [Gate], it was still necessary to maintain a public image. They needed to be seen manually leaving the Baharuth Empire and travelling out to the city.

"I hope Ainz-sama allows this lowly servant to continue"

Sebas looked into Solution's piercing blue eyes.

It was the eyes of a hungry, ravenous beast.

* * *

Author note: Short chapter this time. I wrote most of it on the plane. I'll be on vacation for the entirety of the week, but rest assured!. Once I'm all refreshed, I will get back to writing more chapters! Things should start getting exciting soon.


	14. Before the Tournament Ch3

Chapter 14

Written by: The Reluctant Overlord

Proofread by: PervySageChuck

Author Note: I'm back!

* * *

It had already been several hours since the noblewoman and her butler left the restaurant. They had mentioned that they were heading out to E-Rantel. Apparently, the noblewoman wanted to see if there would be any 'real men' in the tournament.

She had even threatened that she would personally join as a contestant if it looked to be a boring event.

Esmeralda remained conflicted.

She absentmindedly began flipping and playing with the copper coin in her hand.

After debating internally for several minutes, she finally decided on her next course of action.

She left the copper coin on the table as a tip, and began to pack her belongings. She would need to hurry if she was to catch up with the pair.

 _It would be a waste to let such a good man die, after all._

However, Esmeralda personally felt that death would have been preferable compared to a lifetime of servitude under that pompous noblewoman.

…

…

…

* * *

Esmeralda was panting with exhaustion as the carriage came into view. A look of relief washed over her as she noticed that the carriage was completely unharmed.

 _This is a good sign._

As she got closer, she was struck by the luxury and prestige that emanated from the carriage. It was mostly white, which was a symbol of wealth as white colors meant that it would require frequent cleaning and maintenance. There were also gold plated engravings with an insignia that was unfamiliar to her. It was pulled by two majestic and powerful looking horses. The only downside was that it was very eye-catching and gave the impression of vulnerability.

As Esmeralda reached the carriage, the door opened and a well dressed butler came out.

Her heart once again began throbbing, and the fatigue and exhaustion faded from her body.

…

Another one?

No, this feels different.

Sebas did not sense any hostility or ill intent from the approaching figure. The shadow demons reported a young woman riding on horse back who was marching towards the carriage. To satisfy his curiosity, Sebas allowed the figure to approach and he went outside to meet her.

She had dark hair that was cut short and blue eyes that shone with concern. Her attire suggested that she was either an adventurer or in an occupation that required combat preparation. She had two small stilettos strapped to her belt, and a small traveller's backpack slung around her torso.

"May I help you, Miss?"

Esmeralda was still panting, but it was merely a ruse to buy her time to prepare a reply. She had not planned this far ahead.

"Huff…Huff… I understand that…"

"Would you like to join us in heading to the city?"

Esmeralda was taken aback by the sudden offer. It was not something she had expected. Her mind was abuzz with questions and surprise.

In truth, she had intended to go to E-Rantel for quite some time. The prize money was extremely lucrative, and there was a strong shroud of mystery surrounding the city due to the isolationist policies that the Sorcerer King enacted during the first two months of the occupation of the city. There was also another reason for her desire to visit the city, but that was a tale for another time.

"Why would you ask me that?"

"Well, you seem strong. My master has high expectations, and would be sorely disappointed if there were no strong contestants in the tournament."

The gentleman butler gestured towards the carriage.

A flash of annoyance and jealousy crossed Esmeralda's face.

 _Why is he acting so nice and polite to that spoiled brat!_

"Is there a problem?"

Sebas had noticed the look on her face, and asked in a gentle and caring manner.

"No! Nothing is wrong! I was just surprised, that's all!"

Esmeralda flushed with embarrassment. She silently cursed herself.

"You seem strong. You carry yourself like a warrior, and you have a good heart. I believe that all these are very favourable traits, and I think it would be a waste if you did not showcase your talents."

Esmeralda could feel her face turning red.

Solution was sitting quietly inside the luxurious carriage. She was able to listen in on the conversation between Sebas and the stranger. Despite Sebas being her direct superior as the leader of the Pleiades combat maids, she often disagreed with his actions. He was soft and inappropriately merciful to the lower life forms. She could not understand the logic or rationale behind it.

Solution Epsilon was a battle maid and a predator slime. Her heteromorphic racial skill allowed her to change her appearance at will, and hence made her a suitable agent for infiltrative and espionage missions. She also had a rather sadistic personality, and frequently enjoyed tormenting her prey as they were consumed and dissolved alive within her slime body.

However, similar to the other combat maids, she was fiercely loyal and would never let her personal interests and feelings interfere with the greater good of Nazarick. It was true that Lord Ainz had wished for strong fighters to compete in the tournament, and she could sense an element of strength from this individual. As a result, she did not protest Sebas's actions.

She was also in a very good mood. She was quite full.

Solution rested her hands on her belly and caressed it playfully.

...

The carriage was parked alongside the road. As Esmeralda approached, she was once again astounded by the sheer extravagance of the carriage. However, what surprised her even more was the fat, white silk gloved hand that emerged from the small carriage window.

 _Whose hand is this?_

"My Lady, may I introduce…"

Sebas waited for Esmeralda to give her name, but no answer came.

Esmeralda was frozen in place. She was perplexed.

The well dressed butler picked up on this and gave a loud and noticeable cough.

The chubby, gloved hand withdrew as if it was bitten.

A loud retching sound could be heard from inside the carriage. It sounded like someone was vomiting.

Ten seconds later, a lithe and dainty arm emerged from the carriage window.

 _What is going on?_

Esmeralda continued to stare.

The gentleman butler gave another exaggerated cough, and interjected.

" _I'm sorry, but my Lady is not feeling well today. She feels bloated."_

 _THAT'S BULLSHIT!_

Esmeralda was a girl herself, and she knew how it felt like to feel fat and bloated. She used to call them 'fat days'.

 _Calling this 'feeling fat' would be the understatement of the year. Based on the arm, it looks like she ate a person or possibly several people, in fact!_

Eventually, she calmed herself and introduced herself.

"Esmeralda, my Lady…"

She quickly chimed in, and gave a curt bow.

There was a period of uncomfortable silence.

Initially perplexed, she eventually understood the gesture.

Esmeralda bent over to kiss it the hand.

The noblewoman did not give her name and withdrew her hand.

Esmerelda stared at the window while trying hard to peek inside. A look of confusion spread across her face.

The gentleman butler noticed this, and gave a final loud and noticeable cough.

This brought Esmeralda to her senses. She realized her staring was rude. She bowed once again, and spoke with Sebas.

"I will be riding alongside you with my horse."

After several minutes of preparation, they set off.

Once their privacy was ensured, Sebas leaned over to Solution.

"It seems the timing was unfortunate."

Solution nodded, and quickly apologized to Sebas.. Her face began to glow red as she cursed herself. In the meanwhile, there were several large, slimy, half dissolved bodies inside the carriage.

Solution hurriedly consumed them. As the carriage continued on its course, her triple chin was jiggling with each bump on the road. She then remained silent for the remainder of the journey.

It would have been very inappropriate if she had accidentally revealed their disguise and cover because of her careless mistakes.

Sebas interjected. "Also, I believe hand kissing is a human tradition in which a woman would offer her hand to a man, not another woman."

Solution sighed. It seems that she still had a lot to learn about human nobility and their mannerisms.

After a while, she started to look out the window and fell into deep thought as she considered her new role once they arrived in the city.

 _It would be good to be able to wear my battle uniform again. If everything goes according to plan, I would no longer need to keep up this irritating human facade._

In the meantime, another carriage was riding behind them. It was a simple and unassuming carriage with a single occupant. The figure was large and clad in an impressive shining metallic armor from head to toe. He was wearing a helm despite being inside the cabin. The shining warrior looked outside the window while admiring the view.

Beautiful farmland stretched out around the landscape. Crops, green and fresh, stretched out on both sides of the dirt road. The scene was littered with farmhands and workers who were hauling water, picking weeds, harvesting crops, and otherwise going about their day like any other. Farm land stretched as far as the naked eye could see. The grassy meadow was filled with the bloom of late summer wildflowers. The gentle slope of hills rising up and down did little to hide the majesty that lay before them. They were approaching E-Rantel.

The shining figure was taken aback in awe by the wonderful sight.

 _It feels good to be out again!_

At the same time, there was a large gasp that attracted the attention of the occupants in both carriages as Esmeralda remembered the reason she rode out to meet Sebas and Solution in the first place.

…

…

…

* * *

It was the night before the official unveiling of the tournament.

The air surrounding E-Rantel was heavy and saturated with suspicion, apprehension, excitement, worry, trepidation, and curiosity.

The unstoppable golems which had been working non-stop for the last 2 months had finally ceased their endless toil. The human workers were given a day of rest, while the rest of the city seemed to be exceptionally quiet and peaceful.

There were no loud parties or dinners. There were no celebrations or festivals. Everyone was speaking in hushed tones.

All the contestants had arrived in the city. It was a larger turnout than expected. There were roughly five thousand new people in the city. While the population of the Re-Estize Kingdom was well over nine million and the Baharuth Empire had around three million, it should be noted that travelling to E-Rantel was still considered an extremely risky venture.

Firstly, the genocide at Katze Plains was still fresh in everyone's minds, and many citizens had lost loved ones in the battlefield and harboured a grudge against the Sorcerer King.

Secondly, for citizens of the Baharuth Empire, the city of E-Rantel had previously been considered enemy territory until very recently, and hence most of the residents were still originally from the Re-Estize Kingdom, and harboured animosity towards citizens of the Empire from the years of constant wars. As such, most of them were unsure if they would be welcomed in the city of E-Rantel.

Finally, the presence of powerful undead was a significant deterrence to most people. In general, most undead monsters had preyed on the living for generations, and stories of undead who were friendly to humans were practically non-existent. Only the brave and foolish would venture to a city filled with creatures straight out of a horror story.

Furthermore, the Kingdom was suffering from a severe shortage of man-power to tend the crops and fields. By leaving to come to E-Rantel, the people would be taking a large gamble.

The influx of visitors could be divided into several distinct categories based on the purpose of their visit.

Firstly, there were the potential adventurers and potential contestants. They represented the majority of the visitors and made up at least 50% of the group. They were people who were adept at combat but had not been able to fully realize their dream due to financial, family, or personal reasons such as a lack of self confidence. The promise of support, the display of power by the Sorcerer King at the arena when he defeated the Martial Lord, and the lucrative rewards from winning the tournament were the reasons many of them decided to go to E-Rantel.

Secondly, there were the former inhabitants of E-Rantel and the relatives of current residents of the city. Before the subjugation of the city by the Sorcerer King, many people had fled from their homes in search of refuge in the Kingdom. Most of them were not able to successfully integrate themselves, and had run out of savings. Considering that most of their belongings were left behind, they were struggling to survive and hence made the long journey home. The relatives of the current residents were merely concerned about the welfare of the people that were left behind, and took the opportunity to visually confirm it.

Thirdly, there were the Nobility and their servants. They represented the third largest group. The majority of them were simply wealthy and bored and wanted to watch the tournament. These were also envoys sent by the Kingdom or Empire to observe the event in a formal capacity, and third sons and desperate noble families seeking to improve relationships with the Sorcerous Kingdom or make connections and improve their social standing.

Lastly, there were the adventurers. They came to E-Rantel seeking fame, glory, and the promise of true adventure. They represented the smallest group as adventurers were a rare commodity to begin with.

Finally, there were the merchants who came to E-Rantel who wanted to seek and establish trade agreements or promote themselves. After all, advertisement was a core part of any commercial establishment.

At the moment, everyone in E-Rantel was looking up at the moon and wondering what the next day would bring.

The night sky in E-Rantel was ashen grey from the brilliant white light of the full moon as it danced across the rooftops. It was so bright that even the brightest of stars could not be seen.

The moon seemed to have enveloped the entire sky itself. It was a powerful and mesmerizing sight, and it seemed appropriate that it would herald the arrival of the historical day tomorrow.

…

…

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Great Tomb of Nazarick, there was a level 100 Elder Lich Overlord who was anxiously pacing back and forth in his room.

"Damn it!"

"The tournament is tomorrow! What should I do? We don't have a plan!"

He had attempted to clarify an itinerary with Albedo and Demiurge, but they had simply assumed that he already had plans in mind. It was a rather irritating encounter as all three of them deferred the issue back to him. Both Albedo and Demiurge were convinced that Ainz already had a plan in mind, and was simply testing them. As they were hesitant to look incompetent in front of their superior, they merely apologized repeatedly and stared at him.

'Damn it!"

The room that he was pacing around in was massive. It was his private quarters in the Great Tomb of Nazarick. There was a large, imperial court style four poster bed with a gorgeous rosewood veneered face. The bedroom furniture was similarly eye-catching with the hand-carved details, sweeping silhouettes, and solid construction that would leave a lasting impression on anyone who would visit his quarters. There was also a very faint but pleasant fragrance emanating from the bed, although Ainz had not yet discovered the source.

Ainz began to pace around. The extravagance and splendour of his personal room was lost on him as worry and tension filled his mind.

 _Think!_

He walked to the door, and then walked back to his bed.

 _Think!_

He repeated this several times subconsciously while mumbling.

 _Think!_

The act of pacing while thinking has been proven in small case control studies to improve creativity. There were also a plethora of anecdotal evidence ranging from journal entries of famous poets and philosophers detailing their habit of pacing back and forth when pondering and searching for inspiration, to simple word of mouth stories.

Pacing may be a subconscious way of coping with anxiety as research suggests repetitive behavior can help us manage our stress levels when we feel lost or out of control. Repetition and patterns were comforting and therefore retracing one's steps may be a way of creating a pattern to please the brain. It was theorized that it gets blood pumping, facilitates the creation of new connections between brain cells, and encourages the growth of new neurons.

 _But I'm an undead lich! Do I even have any blood or brain cells?_

Ainz began to ponder this conundrum.

 _Wait! Why am I even thinking about this!_

 _Argh! This is so frustrating. Why are all these unrelated thoughts suddenly popping up?_

 _Focus! Think!_

 _Push away all distracting thoughts!_

The repeated triggers of his passive skill that regulated excess emotion was proving extremely valuable as it allowed him to calmly assess the situation.

 _Alright! The first problem will be how to narrow down the combatants._

From the observational reports given to him by his subordinates in the city, it was estimated that there would be around one thousand potential contestants. This was a mind-boggling number, and Ainz did not know how to narrow down their numbers to a manageable 48 for the tournament.

To re-cap, the plan was to have 4 battle royales where the top 48 contestants would battle it out in groups of 12. The top 2 candidates in each battle royale would then proceed to the final 8 man single elimination tournament.

The other issues were how he would ensure the safety of the spectators, how long each combatant needs for rest before the next match, how he would deal with injuries and deaths, and how the victor would be decided.

Ainz also wondered if there was a reason why Albedo had suggested Sebas to participate in the tournament.

 _Was the tournament not meant to be random? Won't Sebas overwhelm the competition?_

 _Wasn't the reason we enrolled the Martial Lord in the tournament as the Sorcerer Kingdom's representative to bring glory to the Sorcerous Kingdom when he won?_

 _Why did Demiurge and Albedo say that the Princess Renner was happy with this plan?_

 _What are they planning? And why didn't they share it with him?!_

All the questions attacked Ainz simultaneously.

 _Focus! One issue at a time!_

Ainz returned to the original question of how to narrow down the participants.

 _What about a gigantic brawl to decide on the top 48?_

He immediately dismissed that idea. It would be extremely difficult and time consuming to organize, and there would be an unacceptable amount of injuries and casualties. He did not want his new Sorcerous Kingdom adventurers to be filled with the crippled and maimed.

 _What about feats of strength, agility, and endurance?_

He had seen anime shows where the protagonist had to take a hero exam and had to undergo rigorous testing such as weight lifting, side jumps, timed sprints, and jumping contests…

However, Ainz had to dismiss that idea as well as many warriors relied on [Martial Arts] rather than brute strength or speed. He was also unsure if jumping height and sprint times would accurately assess their fighting capabilities in a world where enchanted weapons were predominant.

 _What about a machine that measured punching power?_

Ainz did not know why he even thought about that.

 _Think! Think!_

He considered the resources available to him and the contents in the Nazarick Treasury, and calmly assessed them. Finally, realization came to him.

It was not a perfect plan, but it was the best that a normal Japanese salary man with no apparent talents could come up with.

The next problem was the rules of the tournament.

 _How would we determine the victor? And what would he do with the dead or injured._

As each contestant was a possible Sorcerous Kingdom adventurer and the entire objective of the tournament was to draw in potential fighters, Ainz was hesitant to waste this precious resource to self inflicted injury.

Ainz ended up spending the entire night lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling with his lidless empty eye sockets while pondering the various issues.

Eventually, the morning sun rose, and the official starting day of the tournament had begun.

[Message] activate.

"Albedo"

There was silence and Ainz could only hear loud panting.

"Albedo"

Again, there was no reply.

"Albedo!"

"Oh! Momon—I mean, Ainz-sama! My apologies! I was distracted. How may I help you?"

Ainz could still hear Albedo's heavy breathing.

"Sorry for waking you up, Albedo."

"Oh! No! I was not asleep. I have been awake all night readin-I mean, there is no reason to apologize, Ainz-sama! All the guardians of Nazarick exist to serve you, regardless of when or where. We would gladly grind ourselves to the bone in your service!"

Her voice seemed unusually loud.

"Could you assemble the guardians and ask them to meet me in about an hour? I would like to speak to them before we go out to announce the tournament opening."

"Of course, Ainz-sama!"

…

…

…

* * *

There was nothing special about the rising sun that sent fingers of light through the pale white mist of dawn which covered the city, or the chilly breeze that was blowing through which carried the fresh aroma of late summer mingled with fear.

There was nothing remarkable about ten thousand people of various races and nationalities that had once been mortal enemies in a long war, now congregated together in a single location, or that everyone seemed to be equipped in their battle gear.

There was nothing impressive about the polished marble flooring, massive granite walls and foundation, veneered wooden benches, and decorative tapestries in the five story tall, massive arena that had been constructed in a mere two months, or the fact that it could seat ten thousand people easily.

There was nothing extraordinary about the intricate carvings or decorative engravings on the tiles, or the fact that the sky directly above the stadium seemed to be devoid of clouds and that the sunlight seemed to unnaturally illuminate just the arena.

There was nothing that stood out about the large war troll which smelled of blood and sweat, or the two lizardmen whose crocodile like scales gleamed in the sun, or the well dressed butler who radiated a dangerous aura and his arrogant, masked companion with beautiful blond hair, or the all female adamantite adventurer team Blue Rose, or the enigmatic warrior clad in a shiny metallic armor, or the stoic faces and the disciplined posture of the two of the Four Imperial knights of the Baharuth Empire, or the mysterious figure who was still shrouded in darkness.

There was nothing unusual about the 30 x 15 meter arena in the center of the stadium that was tiled with a dark grey ceramic that seemed to absorb light so it would not blind observers, nor the presence of several powerful and imposing figures at the center stage which included a succubus, a guard of angels, an insectoid monster, and two small dark elvish children.

To any independent observer, it would seem that none of these things were thrilling or notable.

This was because the attention of every single person there, be it human or demi-human or undead, was focused on one single figure.

It had twin points of crimson light that burned brightly within the empty orbits of a bleached skull.

It wore an intricately detailed black robe that seemed to swallow light.

It had a black and red aura swirling beneath its feet.

It was an incarnation of death, born from the darkness of another world.

It raised its fleshless hands, and a booming voice erupted, amplified by a magical ability.

"Welcome, everyone, to my tournament!"

And a loud roaring applause followed.

Eventually, the clapping died down.

…

…

…

" _Welcome, everyone, to my first annual tournament of champions"_

" _The beer and ale today will be half price!"_

Ainz could see the looks of confusion amongst the crowd. They were not sure how to react.

He silently cursed himself, and proceeded to clear his throat in an exaggerated manner. It seems that his ploy at humor had failed. Frankly, this was unsurprising. The people gathered here today were filled with anxiety and tension, and neither the congregation of nightmarish undead guards nor the fact that Ainz appeared to be the personification of death that massacred one hundred thousand people in the Katze Plains aided this.

" _Ahem!"_

" _Welcome, everyone! Firstly, I would like to congratulate you on your bravery thus far. It takes courage to venture to this city considering the recent circumstances."_

" _I, the Sorcerer King, Ainz Ooal Gown, welcome you to this tournament which is held to celebrate the establishment of my Kingdom."_

He could hear the soft mutterings of discontent from the crowd. However, this was expected. It was not a peaceful occupation, after all.

" _I will speak plainly. I do not intend to apologize or make amends for the acts committed during a war. I have ruled this land in ages past before my deep slumber. When I awoke, I found that things had changed, and found my rule was challenged."_

" _Do not presume that I am but a simple lich. I do not harbour an unreasonable hatred for the living, nor do I seek conquest or slaves. I do not need humans for sustenance. I have no intention to cover the world in darkness and despair."_

Suddenly, Ainz voiced softened. He thought about his days in the guild, and with his friends. To the crowd, it would seem that Ainz appeared almost…human.

His voice took on a sad and sombre tone.

" _I have been here far longer than you would believe. With my companions, we forged the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick with our own hands. We participated in countless battles. We had our share of victories and defeat. We laughed, played, and fought together. And each day, we grew stronger…"_

Ainz voice trailed off.

" _We were strong. We had wealth. We had power. We had fame. We had fun."_

The last word seemed to echo across the stadium. It was a strange word. Fun was a foreign concept to many people in this world where man eating monsters roamed freely and where everyday was a struggle for survival.

" _We had only one dream, and that dream was to be great."_

"… _And we had achieved that goal._

Ainz looked fondly at the guardians around him.

" _As you all know; all companionships eventually come to an end…"_

Another uneasy silence filled the arena.

" _I will not lie and hide my disappointment..."_

Albedo, Cocytus, Mare, and Aura stared at Ainz. This was the first time he had opened up about the other supreme ones in public.

" _When I emerged from my deep slumber, my despair was multiplied by the sights and atrocities I witnessed."_

" _I was there when Carne Village was attacked and its villagers were slaughtered indiscriminately. I was there when I saw villages razed to the ground, and people struggling even to feed themselves. I was there when I saw humans enslaving other humans. I was there when intruders desecrated my tomb and tried to rob me. I was there when I attempted to peacefully retake the land that was originally my own, and was met with an army of 250,000."_

" _All I saw were weaklings, and there was no hint of the strength of the great legacy that I and my companions had left behind."_

There were whispers amongst the crowd. Was the Sorcerer King and his companions a part of the ancient unknown gods of Old?

" _When I heard about Adventurers, I had assumed they were great explorers who would traverse the wilderness and chart the unknown. Sadly, this did not seem to be the case._

" _However, in the midst of my despair, there have been two individuals who have earned my respect: The Warrior-Caption Gazel Stornoff, and the Black Hero Momon of Darkness."_

" _They were human. They were made of flesh, and mortal and fragile. Yet they possessed a noble spirit and were strong."_

" _This gave me hope. Perhaps there is a chance for me to pursue this lofty dream of mine."_

Ainz had spent a long time searching his soul and thinking of the reason he played Yggdrasil in the first place. He thought about the reasons why he continued logging in everyday despite his friends slowly leaving the game. He thought about the reasons why he did not move on to another game, or find another hobby. He thought about the sad and lonely days when he would log into the conference room and find that he was the only player online.

They had explored most of what the game had to offer. They accomplished numerous noteworthy feats in their prime, but as the guild member numbers dwindled, it became harder and harder for them to participate in raids and difficult quests.

There were veteran players in Yggdrasil who simply logged in everyday for interacting with friends and for social contact. The bonds of friendship forged in playing together for thousands of hours was tenacious and not easily forgotten.

There were veteran players in Yggdrasil who simply logged in everyday to manage the guild for the new players, or for administrative tasks.

There were veteran players who logged in for the timed bonus quests, the monotonous recurrent crafting writs, or to collect their daily login bonus so their characters would not be disadvantaged should they decide to get back in to the game in a more serious capacity.

Ainz contemplated this extensively while searching for the reason he continued to play the game and stayed behind, even on the last day.

The answer was simple: Ainz had invested a lot of time and effort in this game, and he could not simply let it go. He developed close and unbreakable bonds of friendship with his fellow guild members, and logging in everyday to see the Great Tomb of Nazarick gave him both comfort and pain as the nostalgic memories flooded his being.

He treasured both the good time and the bad times. The echoes of laughter, crying, anger, happiness, sadness, and other emotions seemed to reverberate through the halls of Nazarick when he strolled past in the days when he would log in and find nobody else there.

Was Ainz lonely? Absolutely.

But was the desire for friendship and relationships the reason Satoru Sazuki started playing the DMMORPG Yggdrasil? No.

Satoru Sazuki was primarily a solo player, but when he found players with a similar goal and dream, he learnt the joys of being in a guild. Very few of the members of Ainz Ooal Gown knew each other before the game. They got together because they shared a similar goal and a similar dream. They wanted to be successful.

They wanted to be great.

And that was why they built the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick and worked so hard to spread and reinforce the reputation of the guild.

" _I want to be great…"_

" _No, I want us to be great…"_

Although Ainz was addressing the crowd and the guardians of Nazarick, it seemed like he was also speaking to the 40 faintly flickering silhouettes in front of him. He would honor their memories and achievements by spreading the name of Ainz Ooal Gown, but he also refused to be weighed down by his past.

His voice suddenly took on a strong and commanding aura. Whether it was an innate skill of his level 100 Overlord body, or simply his heightened resolve, it was apparent to all listeners that Ainz had changed. This was the voice of a powerful, confident and mighty ruler.

" _I will make this Kingdom great…"_

" _Humans have already shown they have potential based on the actions of the Warrior Captain and Momon the Dark Hero."_

" _I see no reason why the rest of you cannot eventually reach that pinnacle."_

" _A dream doesn't become reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination and hard work."_

" _To become great, you will need strength. And that is precisely why I decided to hold this tournament. This will be a showcase of the strength of our three nations. Test your skills! Observe! Learn! Take this opportunity to demonstrate and build your strength!"_

" _Together, we can be great…"_

" _And with this, I officially declare the start of the first ever Sorcerous Kingdom's Martial Arts Tournament!"_

A roaring applause even louder than the first reverberated throughout the arena.

Ainz was taking a gamble. He would likely never find friends and companions like his former guild mates ever again. To actively do so would be an insult to their memory.

Furthermore, he had the NPCs of Nazarick, the personal creations of his guild mates and the embodiment of their personalities and characteristics, to accompany him.

In addition to that, he was now the ruler of an entire nation.

Before the guild Ainz Ooal Gown, there was the role player, Momonga the Overlord.

Before the guild Ainz Ooal Gown, there were 41 individual solo players.

Similar dreams and aspirations brought these 41 kindred spirits together.

Ainz's plan was to strive to cultivate the same dreams and desires into them which had been present in his former guild mates. He wanted to instill the same eagerness and devotion that drove him and his guild mates to achieve all that the guild Ainz Ooal Gown had in Yggdrasil.

He reached out a bony hand while grasping at the air.

Perhaps, if he did that, he could recapture and replicate the same glorious memories of the old days, and even make new ones with the people of the New World.


	15. Hero Exam Ch1

Chapter 15

Written by: The Reluctant Overlord

Proofread by: PervySageChuck

Update: I just added an author note at the end; no new content in the edited version

* * *

The warm sunlight that seemed to unnaturally illuminate the arena did little to sooth Vanos Deralek's quivering body. Sweat rolled down his temple as he stared down his fearsome opponent. He gulped involuntarily.

The incongruous weather pattern and terrifying figure standing before him caused his hands to tremble uncontrollably as he gripped his sword.

Finally, he steeled himself. His face contorted into a grimace as he prepared himself.

[Physical Boost]

[Strong Assault]

Vanos was clad only in a light chainmail armor to maximize his speed. He gripped an enchanted long sword imbued with fire, which was known as the creature's weakness. He sprinted headfirst, ignoring all measures of defense. His thrust would be precise and true.

He struck with all the strength and power he had.

"Arghhhh!"

…

Clank!

There was a loud sound of a sword being deflected.

In the corner of his eye, Vanos saw a massive blurry object rushing towards him. It was too late for him to react and evade. Soon his entire vision was filled with darkness as he was flung like a rag doll several meters away.

The crowd was silent.

Vanos got up gingerly. The pain was searing. He was still dazed and stunned, and his right shoulder and torso was throbbing and aching. Fortunately, he was mostly unhurt. He let out a disappointed sigh, and turned back to face his adversary.

The figure that effortlessly knocked him back stood motionless and silent.

It was wearing heavy black armor with spiky pauldrons. It had a massive tower shield on one hand, and a smaller round shield in the other. It had a tattered jet black cloak and a rotting face peered from its helm. Its strength was unfathomable.

Vanos thought to himself, and shuddered.

 _What would have happened if it had a sword?_

A childish voice rang out and brought Vanos back to his senses.

"NEXT!"

With a dejected sigh, he picked up his sword which had been knocked away and walked towards a group of people who bore similar crestfallen looks on their faces.

There were over one thousand applicants in the tournament. It was an obscene number.

To narrow down this number, the Sorcerer King had assigned his Death Knight minions to become standardized opponents in a test of strength. Because of their equal stats, they were the ideal testing dummy. They were also plenty in number, and disposable in the case of casualties and injuries. Their usual flamberge swords were swapped with another shield to prevent unnecessary injuries to contestants. In addition, the extra shield increased their defensive capabilities as they would have to endure the onslaught of hundreds of attacks.

Combatants who were able to inflict damage on the Death Knight were given a rating. Minor damage would be assigned a low rating, while major and significant damage would be assigned a high rating. Naturally, any contestant who was actually able to destroy the Death Knight would instantly be accepted into the top 48.

Unfortunately, as Vanos was not able to deal any damage to the creature, he was not even assigned a score.

Each combatant was given a time limit of one minute to inflict as much damage as possible to the Death Knight. If the Death Knight suffered significant damage that was deemed to impact their ability to accurately and fairly assess their opponent's strength, they were substituted out. The Death Knight was instructed to primarily defend against attacks, but was also allowed to disarm or counter attack if the opportunity presented itself. If it managed to incapacitate a combatant, then that contestant would be given a score of zero as well. As such, many contestants utilized the 'hit and run' method.

Magic was not allowed, but combatants could use any enchanted weapon or armor that they could carry. Their score was assessed by an outside observer.

In this case, it was a small dark elf child.

She wore a shirt of light leather armor, reinforced with red dragon's scales. The emblem of Ainz Ooal Gown was displayed proudly on her vest, stitched in gold onto a white background. She wore a pair of white pants matching her vest. A necklace with a glittering golden acorn pendant hung from her neck, and she wore a pair of gloves plated with enchanted metal.

A whip coiled across her waist and right shoulder, and there was a longbow on her back.

She spoke in a clear and crisp voice.

"NEXT!"

…

…

* * *

In the meantime, back in Nazarick, Ainz watched the monitor intently.

Seated beside him was Albedo, Shalltear, Cocytus, and Mare. All of them were gazing at the monitor while observing the competition.

Shalltear was the first to speak.

"They are so weak! Is this all those puny lowly humans can achieve? This is disgraceful. They do not even deserve to live, let alone participate in Ainz-sams's glorious tournament!"

Albedo nodded wholeheartedly.

"I agree with Shallter, Ainz-sama. Anyone who wishes to participate in a tournament hosted by the Supreme Being must have a certain degree of strength. Attacks like that are nothing more than an insult to you!"

Ainz raised his hand to silence them, but even he could not deny they had a point.

He had gathered the guardians in this room to study the [Martial Arts] employed by the combatants. Since the [Martial Arts] were still a mystery to Ainz as it did not exist in the old Yggdrasil, he had wanted to use this opportunity to learn more about it.

However, what he had witnessed so far had been rather disappointing. Ainz fell into deep contemplation.

 _It would have been nice to be there myself so I can observe them directly, but the Guardians would not stop nagging me about the security risks._

From the intelligence reports that he and the rest of his subordinates have gathered, the [Martial Arts] was a fighting style developed by the native inhabitants living in the New World. It could be used to enhance their overall power, resistance, and create devastating combos if used in succession. It was a skill that could only be cultivated through intense training, and seemed to be limited by physical and mental stamina.

Most average warriors only had one or two [Martial Art] skills in their arsenal, while higher caliber adventurers could use up to ten or more.

From asking around, it seems that acquiring a [Martial Art] skill would usually take a novice around a year to achieve. It could be achieved through real battle experience, healing when injured, or fighting stronger opponents, or simply frequent repetitive practice.

"I understand where both of you are coming from…"

"Although what we have seen so far would pose no threat to us, this is still a mysterious art that I would like to investigate further. Only a fool would ignore the opportunity to learn more about this potentially dangerous skill. We still do not know the limits of [Martial Arts] or its capabilities."

"Who knows? There might be [Martial Arts] that could even harm us in Nazarick."

There was a hint of amusement lacing his tone.

"IMPOSSIB-"

Shalltear stopped herself in the middle of her outburst.

"My apologies, Ainz-sama!"

"That is quite alright, Shalltear."

 _It was not an unexpected reaction. After all, considering the displays they had witnessed today in the monitor, it was a logical conclusion._

Ainz turned to look at Mare.

"Are you taking all of this down?"

"-Yes…Ainz-sama!"

Ainz had assigned Mare the role of writing down all the types of [Martial Arts] they had seen so far, along with descriptions and their offensive and defensive capabilities in terms of efficacy against the Death Knight.

Ideally, he would have liked for Cocytus to write the details down as he was a trained warrior and would be able to take note of the minute details of the attacks, but his 'Cold Mist Aura' would frequently form condensation around him and cause the ink to smudge on the parchment.

Fortunately, this did not pose as big of a problem as Ainz had initially anticipated.

 _Thank goodness everyone so far seemed to have the habit of shouting out loud the names of the [Martial Arts] they were using!_

…

…

…

The first day of the tournament was ending as the clouds above reddened and the sun began to set. It cast a maroon tinge throughout the massive arena and blessed it with a calm and serene atmosphere.

The enormous crowd began to disperse. Amongst them were around 300 despondent and dismayed warriors.

Out of over 300 combatants, none of them had managed to defeat the Death Knight. 75% of them did not even manage to inflict sufficient damage to be assigned a score. The remaining quarter only accomplished in causing minor scratches in the Death Knight's shield. Less than a handful managed to earn a score beyond 1. None of them managed to dent its armor, let alone penetrate it.

Overall, it was a very disheartening day for both the contestants and for Ainz, who was hoping for a better performance.

…

…

* * *

Back in the town of E-Rantel, the taverns, inns, restaurants, and streets were filled with the chatter and discussions about the tournament. Most of the experienced warriors did not participate in the initial tests of strength against the Death Knight; instead, they wisely chose to observe and look for weaknesses and formulate battle strategy.

After watching over 300 attempts, they were able to identify the ideal attack pattern and weak points in the armor. Everyone was secretly comparing notes and exchanging battle strategies.

The town was also abuzz about the speech given by the Sorcerer King. While not wholly convinced, his actions so far had been true to his word, and they found themselves slowly warming up to the idea of living under the rule of an undead lich. It should be emphasized that Ainz, albeit charismatic, was still a fearsome creature with seemingly unlimited powers of destruction. Most of the adventurers in E-Rantel have had dealings with the undead in the past, and the concept of a friendly undead was basically absurd. With the existence of magic in this world, the possibility that Ainz was using a charm spell or a malicious innate skill of persuasion was not zero.

Thus, it was not surprising that everyone listened to his speech with a hint of skepticism. This is reinforced by the many stories of Liches masquerading as humans or adventurers and being friendly with the living in order to gain power and wealth with the ultimate goal of the extinction of all life. There were even rumors of such a Lich working with the Six Hands in the Re-Estize empire, which was an underground criminal empire that terrorized the population for decades. Essentially, dealing with a Lich was akin to striking a deal with a demon.

The New World was a harsh one where abuses of power, cruelty, slavery, rape, torture, deceit, and death was commonplace. It was a world where monsters existed.

In other words, the very fact that people were beginning to trust Ainz and warm up to him was a testament to his oratory skills and the appeal of his lofty dream.

...

Before long, the second day of the tournament had arrived.

There was a modest drizzle of rain which saturated the air with the damp scent of wet earth and grass. Grumpy adventurers covered their equipment with grease and oil to prevent rust, while others simply draped a cloak over themselves. However, when they arrived at the arena, the weather around the stadium was completely clear with a bright and sunny sky overhead.

A single Death Knight stood in the center of the arena while several Elder Liches floated around and organized the crowd into a single line. One of the liches carried a list of combatants who managed to score above 3. At the moment, the piece of parchment was completely blank.

Instead of a young dark elf child judging the event, a small but luxurious carriage seemed to be parked to the side while a very pale looking female creature dressed in a white wedding gown stood beside it. Its eyes were blood red and sharp fangs were visible when it smiled.

The atmosphere today was much more relaxed compared to yesterday. Everyone was calmer and understood what they had to achieve. There was significantly less hesitation in their attacks, and there were battles which even lasted the entire minute. In comparison, many contestants were blown away by the shield bash during yesterday's event and did not manage to utilize the full time limit allocated.

….

Once again, Ainz was sitting in the viewing room along with Albedo, Aura, Mare, and Cocytus.

"-Um-Ainz-sama, is it… really…okay for Shalltear… to be out in the open like that?"

Mare stammered.

"It should be fine, Mare. She has been instructed to stay in the carriage at all times and observe through the window. She will communicate telepathically to her vampire brides when assigning a score. This way, both her appearance and her voice would be concealed."

"But Ainz-sama, why can't she just make the decisions from the viewing room here in Nazarick?"

Aura asked.

"Hm… You have a point, but—"

Ainz recalled the crestfallen mood that Shalltear had been in since the incident with the mind control. For the last few months, she was restricted to opening [Gates] and patrolling her floor in Nazarick, where as every other guardian has been actively going out and performing their duties.

"I think this would be a good learning experience for Shalltear. After all, she is our strongest physical fighter, and it would be good for her to directly observe the event. Furthermore, I think she could learn from this experience in terms of how to accurately assess the strength of humans and the [Martial Arts]."

He had also wanted to say that it would be good for Shaltear to go outside and get some fresh air, but he did not want them to think his decisions as the Ruler of Nazarick to be merely based on compassion and sentiment alone.

 _But she looked so miserable…_

Meanwhile, at the arena…

"Zero"

"Next"

"Zero"

"Next"

"Zero"

"Next"

This continued on for the better part of an hour. Mare had stopped writing as the variation in [Martial Arts] had diminished. Both Aura and Albedo had a bored look on their faces but they were quick to hide it as to not displease their glorious leader.

Even Ainz, who amongst the group, had been the one who was most interested in the [Martial Arts] and assessing the strength of the humans, had grown tired.

"Oh-"

 _This should be interesting_

…

There was a surreal silence as the massive hulking figure stepped forward. She was wearing a large red, full plate mail armor with a single eye decorating the chest piece. An enormous war pick which weighed almost as much as a fully grown man was gripped in her hands. Intricate, powerful dwarven runes glowed along the weapon.

Gagaran surveyed her opponent with a keen eye.

Behind her, she could feel the stares of the crowd as they anxiously awaited the results that an adamantite adventurer could produce.

"Hmph!"

She stared down her opponent, noting its rotten lidless eyes riddled with cataracts.

She did not fear death. She had died once before.

Gagaran was a true warrior, and her warhammer had felled countless foes.

She prepared her charge.

In her mind, she superimposed the image of the monstrous insectoid maid creature onto the Death Knight.

Anger and vigor flowed through her veins, giving her strength as the memories of the battle in the Re-Estize Kingdom resurfaced.

She had spent a long and grueling re-training regimen to regain the abilities and experience she had lost after her resurrection. Even now, she was not sure if she was back at full power.

 _This will be a good test!_

Gagaran tightened her grasp on her massive war hammer.

[Greater Ability Boost]

[Major Brutality]

[Minor Slayer]

[Piercing Strike]

With a savage roar, she burst forward using her momentum to strike a decisive blow to the smaller shield on the Death Knights left arm.

She did not bother aiming for his body, nor his head. She aimed straight for his raised shield.

The impact sent splinters of wood and slivers of metal into the air as the enormous warhammer broke through the shield and blew the Death Knight to the side.

The sound of the clash was still ringing in the crowd's ears.

From pure physical force alone, Gagaran had managed to completely destroy the shield and sent the Death Knight several meters to the side.

However, the Death Knight quickly recovered and got up on its feet. Asides from the shattered shield and dented metal gauntlets on the shield arm, the Death Knight appeared unharmed.

Completely unfazed, the undead monstrosity charged towards Gagaran with the tower shield facing the front.

 _A shield bash?_

Fortunately, after spending all day observing the movements and counter attacks of the Death Knight, Gagaran was fully prepared for this.

[Fortress]

She gracefully sidestepped and used the blunt edge of her warpick as a fulcrum to deflect the shield bash with all her strength. Her warpick hit the edge of the tower shield, and the force rotated the Death Knight 90 degrees. At the moment, both of them faced one another. With a growl, the Death Knight charged once more. However, as they were only about 2 feet from each other, the creature could not muster as much momentum as it did before.

Gagaran took advantage of this opportunity to begin swinging her powerful warpick at the Death Knight. Each forceful blow sent faint tremors in the ground, but was deflected easily by the Death Knight's tower shield.

[Piercing Strike]

Gagaran began to wind up to strike yet another powerful blow, but a voice rang through the air.

"Time's up!"

Both the Death Knight and Gagaran managed to stop their attacks mid-action. This in itself was a testament to their overwhelming physical prowess.

The awestruck crowd and Gagaran both looked at the vampire bride with anticipation.

What would the score be?

This was the question that burned in everyone's minds.

…

…

"Zero"

…

…

Everyone involuntarily let out a surprised gasp. Even the unintelligent Death Knight let out a low groan, although this might have been purely coincidental.

Gagaran was the first to compose herself.

She walked towards the vampire bride and demanded an explanation.

"What do you mean by 'zero'?!"

Her voice was quivering with anger that she tried hard to suppress.

"Huh?"

The vampire bride answered.

"I clearly did damage to that Death Knight!"

The others in the crowd nodded their heads in agreement.

Suddenly, a pure, innocent laugh rang from the carriage.

The vampire bride began to emulate the laughter and joined suit.

"Sorry about that, I measure strength in meters, so I can't discern differences of a millimeter or two."

…

…

…

Meanwhile, back in Nazarick, Ainz blinked several times despite having only empty sockets for eyes.

'WHATTT?!"

It was neither Aura or Mare, nor Albedo or Cocytus that shouted.

It was Ainz.

Considering the display of power that Gagaran had just shown compared to the earlier contestants, it was mindboggling that she also received a score of zero.

 _Was the window too tinted? No, Shalltear had dark vision._

 _Was the remote viewing device malfunctioning? No, everything had been fine so far._

 _Was Shalltear simply being funny? No, she sounded serious._

 _So what is going on?_

 _And what kind of answer was that?!_

Ainz was confused.

[Message] activate.

"Shalltear…"

"Yes, Ainz-sama?"

"Shalltear… why did you assign her a score of zero?"

There was a pause of a few seconds where Shalltear pondered the question.

"What do you mean, Ainz-sama?"

This time, Ainz gave a slight pause as he decided on what to say.

"I mean—that performance was the best we had seen so far. She had even managed to shatter his shield and was on equal footing in terms of strength in that one minute…"

There was no response from Shalltear.

"I mean… I think that display of [Martial Arts] certainly deserved a better score than zero…"

"EHHHH-?"

"She was using [Martial Arts]?"

The voice took an unexpected tone of surprise.

"But—she was so weak!"

Her tone was mixed with honesty and shock.

"Shalltear, what did you mean by only being able to measure strength only in meters and not in millimeters?"

Again, there was no reply.

…

…

…

Ainz face palmed as he pondered what he should do with Shalltear.


	16. Hero Exam Ch2

Chapter 16

 **THE RELUCTANT OVERLORD**

Written by: The Reluctant Overlord

Proofread by: PervySageChuck

 **Author note** : I was reading a few OTHER fan fictions on this website, and I realized that it is difficult for me to keep track of all the OC's in other people's stories. Since I read each update like everyone else, I will sometimes say 'Huh, who is this'.

Because of this, I find that re-reading their story from page 1 helps.

Anyways, my point is that I also like to put in small nods here and there for the OCs that I created in my story. My story is suppose to be read in one smooth flow. For readers who follow my story and read chapter to chapter, I would recommend (if you have the time), to speed re-read my story from the start once in a while for maximal enjoyment!

Does not apply to people with better memory and attention spans than me.

*Edit: some people misunderstood the last part so I added a line

* * *

The third day of the hero exam began as it always did.

Eager contestants lined up as directed by the floating Elder Liches while a Death Knight stood in the center of the arena, equipped with two shields. This time, there were several Death Knights waiting at the edge of the arena on standby in case a replacement was necessary.

The reason for this was there were several strong contestants amongst the crowd today.

Everyone stared at the carriage to the right of the arena.

A pale looking vampire bride, clad in an erotic lacy white wedding gown, stood in front of it as usual.

The first contestant strolled up. The eyes of the entire crowd were focused on him

He was wearing a traditional butler uniform which was neatly pressed and pristine white gloves.

His hair was cut short and grey, while his face was well sculpted and groomed.

His eyes were piercing grey with a serious gleam.

His expression was stoic with no hint of fear or anxiety.

…

Just moments ago, when this man marched up to the Death Knight, he caused quite a stir amongst the crowd.

Firstly, he was unarmed.

Secondly, he was wearing a classic butler uniform that seemed wildly out of place while the rest of the combatants were wearing armor.

Finally, he strode forward until he was merely several feet away from the monstrous Death Knight.

This incongruent behavior and appearance confused many in the crowd.

However, the experienced adventurers and warriors in the group saw the minute details that indicated the strength that was radiating from this seemingly senile old butler. He carried himself with confidence and discipline that only a well-trained fighter would have. There was something off about this butler.

Sebas was standing right in front of the Death Knight. He could smell its rotting breath.

Casually, he pulled back and tightened his white gloves.

Sebas took a stance and readied himself for a punch. It would be a cold and calculative strike. He wondered if he should hold back or not. There were no instructions from his Lord, Ainz-sama.

 _Should I go all-in?_

The crowd was utterly puzzled. Most fighters so far had kept a distance so they could charge forward and build momentum. They could not understand the movements of this mysterious butler.

Sebas ignored the confused whispers behind him. He clenched his fist and leaned backwards while crouching very slightly. His arm was raised and he put a knee forward.

His eyes narrowed into slits and his muscles tensed.

This was Sebas' signature battle stance.

He would use one strike to end it quickly.

Sebas exhaled, then took in a deep breath as his fist charged forward.

The congregation of contestants behind him held their breath with anticipation.

 _What would happen next?_

This was the question on all of their minds.

"PASS!"

"Huh?"

"You passed. You're in. Next!"

The spectators were dumbstruck.

"What?!"

They said collectively.

The enigmatic butler seemed to be surprised as well, and halted his fist mid-punch and shot a scrutinizing look at the source of the voice.

'Pass' was typically reserved for contestants who were guaranteed a spot in the top 48 who would then proceed to the battle royale. In other words, to have received a 'pass' before any combat denoted that the contestant's strength was so great that there was no need to formally go ahead with testing.

So far, only the Martial Lord from the Baharuth Empire had been given a 'pass' before the sparring match against the Death Knight. However, his feats of strength in pure physical combat were already renowned, and the crowd could understand the rationale behind it.

However, they did not understand the reasoning behind giving this absurdly dressed butler the same score.

…

"I said 'Pass!'. Don't waste time. Next-"

"OUCH!"

"How dare you kick me, short stuff!"

"Ouch!"

"What do you mean fake tits!"

"I'll kill you!"

To the listeners outside, it seemed that there was a second person in the carriage.

The vampire bride, which was telepathically linked to Shalltear, struggled to emulate the conversation going on in the carriage, but was only able to deliver one side of the exchange.

The crowd strained themselves to recognize the second voice, but it was magically muffled by the carriage's interior walls.

"I said, why are we wasting time! You know he's going to pa-"

"Ouch!"

"We have to be here all day. I don't want to sit here all da—"

"Ahhh!"

"What are you doing? What are you reaching for—"

"Take your hands off me, Shortie!"

There seemed to be a commotion in the carriage as it began to rock back and forth and tremble.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

A shrill, girly shriek pierced the air that overcame the magical sound barrier placed in the carriage.

"Stop!"

"Give that back!"

"GIVE THEM BACKK!"

"GIVE THEM BACKK!"

…

"Ahem!"

The sound of an exaggerated cough brought everyone to their senses.

It originated from the well-dressed butler standing in the center of the arena.

"My apologies to the Organizers of the Sorcerer King's Martial Arts tournament, but I believe I should be allowed to display my combat strength. It would be unfair to the others here if I was allowed a free pass."

Sebas held up a white glove in the air for all to see.

"I realized that, as representatives of the Sorcerer King, both of you recognized the magical item that I am currently using."

"Behold, the Genji Gloves!"

"This is a legendary magical item that originated from a mysterious island nation that vanished centuries ago. It grants the user exceptional physical power against the undead in particular. It is a treasured heirloom passed on by my Mistress's esteemed family."

Sebas motioned to the masked blond female in the crowd.

She was wearing a dark cloak that covered her slim body, and a small mask that covered her face. However, her long flowing blond hair and fair skin was still visible. She bore an aura of nobility, and even with the mask covering her face, they could sense an expression of utmost arrogance.

"I understand that wielding this item gives me a significant advantage in this contest of strength against the Death Knight, but please allow me to display my strength."

A loud 'Oooh' spilled from the mob behind him. Looks of understanding dawned on their faces.

There was about a minute of silence from the vampire bride puppet before she finally spoke.

"Yes, that is correct. I had recognized the powerful magical item that you possessed, and simply wished to save time."

"Please proceed…"

"Understood!"

Sebas bowed at the direction of the carriage, and once again, took his battle stance against the Death Knight.

This time, however, he made extra effort to bring attention to his gloves. He raised them in the air and mumbled incoherently as if activating a hidden technique, and let out a loud roar as he struck the Death Knight. It was a very theatrical performance.

The first blow produced a resounding echo as the impact splintered the wooden shield. There was a fist sized hole in the shield.

There was also an instantaneous release of an overwhelming predatory blood lust, but only Shalltear and Aura managed to notice it. They were a few exceptional people in the crowd who picked up traces of the transient brutal bloodlust, but they simply passed it off as a fleeting unexplained sensation caused by the loud sound from the impact of his fist with the shield.

Everyone looked at the Death Knight, anticipating the standard shield bash that often followed as a counter attack to each direct attack by a combatant.

However, something odd occurred.

The Death Knight was retreating.

It took several steps back and continued to maintain a defensive posture.

The spectators were flabbergasted.

 _Was it… afraid?_

 _Can the undead even feel fear?_

 _What was going on?_

Bewildered looks appeared on everyone's faces.

Then they noticed that Sebas was walking forward while raising his white gloved hand in front of him.

This alerted them that something was amiss.

 _Was the glove repelling the Death Knight?_

 _It must be it!_

With each step that Sebas took, the Death Knight reciprocated with a backwards step.

 _What an impressive magical item!_

They finally understood why the occupants in the carriage had initially given Sebas a free 'pass'.

The expression of awe soon turned to jealousy as some of the contestants began to grumble about how unfair having such an item was.

This was supposed to be a contest of strength and combat prowess. Surely utilizing such an item was simply taking advantage of the situation. The Genji Gloves was super effective against the Death Knight, but was not representative of the contestant's true strength.

 _He was cheating!_

 _This isn't fair!_

 _That bastard!_

Before the grumbling could spread, a lone voice emerged from the horde and reprimanded them.

"Be silent, children!"

"A true fighter relies on strength, agility, cunning, and most importantly: preparation."

"Exploiting an enemy's weakness and preparing for the fight beforehand is one of the most crucial skills that a warrior or an adventurer should have. Studying your opponent and exploiting advantages before a battle can help secure a decisive victory, minimize injuries, and allow one to continue with the next battle with strength to spare."

"This is why the Death Knight test is held openly in public, and over the period of a week. We were all given an opportunity to study our foe and prepare beforehand. This is an essential skill that all martial artists should have, as well as any potential adventurers."

"This was a brilliant decision by the Sorcerer King."

There was a begrudging tone lacing the last sentence.

The crowd looked at the source of this voice. It came from a hulking figure clad in heavy plate armor. It came from Gagaran, the adamantite adventurer from the Blue Rose party.

Suddenly, another voice interjected.

"There is also another reason…"

It came from Baziwood Peshmel, one of the esteemed Four Imperial Knights of the Baharuth Empire. He was widely regarded as the strongest of the Four and therefore one of the strongest warriors of the Empire. He had cut down many beasts and men in the war.

A few citizens and soldiers from the Re-Estize Kingdom eyed him with disdain.

'You say that the Sorcerer King wants to test how well we can prepare against our opponents. I agree with that statement. If he had wanted to merely test our combat potential, he would have hosted multiple Death Knight fights simultaneously on the day of the big reveal so that no one would have time to prepare. However-"

Baziwood adopted a grim countenance.

"What if the reason he did this is also to get us to reveal any trump cards we may have against the undead?"

"This would be a great way to identify the existence of any potentially dangerous weapons or armor that are effective against the undead."

Silently, Baziwood cursed the genius intellect of the Sorcerer King.

The crowd began to stir, and looked at Sebas once more.

This time, a look of respect appeared on all their faces. It was not directed at the butler.

Rather, they were in awe of the Sorcerer King's dazzling cunning and stratagem.

…

Meanwhile, in Nazarick, a bleached white skull was staring at the screen with its jaw hanging down like a puppet with its strings cut.

…

"Pass"

The vampire bride repeated itself once again.

This time, no one voiced any complaints.

…

Sebas stepped out of the arena.

The next contestant who walked up to the Death Knight generated similar gasps of astonishment.

She had a petite frame and was wearing a dark grey cloak that enshrouded her body. A simple white mask covered most of her face, and her flowing blond locks of hair hung delicately around her shoulders and gave off a pleasant aroma.

Even with the feeble attempts at a disguise, it was apparent that she was a very beautiful young lady.

She was also unable to hide her noble bearing and gait as she moved and breathed.

The men in the crowd were struck with a tinge of longing in their hearts as they were smitten by this lovely figure.

However, there were also people who had the opposite expression amongst the crowd.

Several people were sporting a look of utmost surprise on their faces as they recalled the events 2 days ago, in the evening of the first day of the tournament.

…

It was at the Shining Golden Pavillion.

As one of the most famous locations in the city, it was also the most luxurious inn in E-Rantel where only nobles and the wealthy could afford to live. Later, it became renowned for the place where the influential adventurer Momon the Dark Hero took residence in.

However, this inn had fallen on hard times since the mass exodus of the wealthy elite after the subjugation of the city by the Sorcerer's Kingdom. Were it not for the financial aid provided by the Sorcerer King, the Shining Golden Pavillion inn would have shut down. Still the building was extremely well-kept with its polished wooden walls, inlaid with intricate patterns, turning a lovely shade of orange under the light of the magical crystal chandeliers.

Thankfully for the owners, the grand tournament has attracted various wealth merchants and noblemen who are now residing at the inn.

However, this was both a blessing and a curse.

A voice laced with snobbishness and insufferable pompousness rang out in the dining room.

It was a voice that everyone at the inn was familiar with.

...

"Pathetic!"

"Simply an embarrassment!"

"Are there even any real fighters in this city?"

A haughty noble woman glared at the rest of the diners in the restaurant.

It was a stare that was filled with ridicule and contempt.

It was akin to a look one would give to a slug or ant.

"Hmph!"

This drew groans from the people around her.

The noble woman had been spouting inflammatory remarks like this since she walked back from the stadium.

It was a miracle that she managed to return safely from the stadium without being ambushed by an angry mob.

 _Well, actually… there might have been a lynch mob if the astute butler had not ushered his Mistress quickly back to their rooms at the inn._

The diners glanced back at the entrance to the restaurant.

If it was not for the Death Knights guarding the doors and patrolling at prominent locations in the city, the angry crowd might have entered the Shining Golden Pavillion to teach this pompous brat a lesson.

In truth, many of the diners at the restaurant had not participated in the sparring match against the Death Knight, and were thus immune to her provocative speech. To afford staying and dining at the Shining Golden Pavillion required immense wealth, and this was only available to high ranking adventurers and nobles.

Naturally, anyone who was able to achieve such a high rank would prefer to observe and analyze the competition before entering the fray.

Similarly, they also possessed enough discipline and self-control and did not bother admonishing this young, spoiled noble woman. Begrudgingly, a few of them even agreed with her. Unfortunately, looking down on the weak was a sentiment shared by many of the strong.

However, the Blue Rose group was not as accommodating. Being adamantite ranked adventures, they naturally stayed at the most luxurious inn available. The inn's reputation for excellent food, services, and amenities would set the common worker back a month's worth of wages for just one night.

A prominent vein began to bulge on the temple of Gagaran.

Her eye lid was twitching involuntarily.

The twins, Tia and Tina, remained silent.

Lakyus, their leader, shot a warning look at Gagaran.

No one could identify the expression of Evileye, as she was still wearing her cryptic mask.

As the noble woman continued her rant, the muscles in the massive, hulking adventurer began tensing and her fingers curled into a fist.

Lakyus stared at her companion.

She knew what was coming next.

Suddenly, Gagaran sat up from her chair.

This drew the attention of everyone in the room.

However, before she could say anything, a voice interjected.

"Excuse me Miss, but would you please refrain from slandering the name of the brave contestants from today?"

The diners looked for the owner of this brave soul who spoke up.

It was a girl who had also surpassed loveliness. She had luscious black hair tied with a frilly white ribbon that gleamed in the light of the chandelier above like a silver tiara. An azure blue neck corset was tightly wrapped around her small neck and a cerulean ribbon was pinned in front of her blouse. She wore an elegant maid outfit with matching black rimmed glasses. Her complexion was flawless and she held herself up with discipline and authority.

"My master, the Sorcerer King, appreciates any brave soul who would make the journey here to challenge themselves in the Martial Arts Tournament."

"As long as they are visitors in his nation, he would prefer it if you would refrain from besmirching their names and courage."

"Hmph!"

"They are so weak!"

The black haired beauty straightened her glasses.

"Do you think you can do better?"

There was a pause as everyone held their breath in anticipation for the noble woman's response.

"Well?"

The proud noblewoman stammered.

"My butler will be entering! He is very strong! As strong as an adamantite adventurer!"

There was a loud gasp from the crowd.

 _Who was this man?_

"So?"

The noblewoman looked perplexed.

"What do you mean?"

"I said, so?"

"In the Sorcerous Kingdom, we value strength and intellect. People who are weak and rely on their servants and minions are poor leaders."

"The Sorcerer King was a Supreme Being who created us all, and also the most powerful and intelligent being in all of Nazarick. This is why we follow him."

"What about you?"

There was an uncomfortable silence.

 _Would this young noblewoman dare to challenge a servant of the Sorcerer King?_

However, her answer shocked everyone.

"FINE!"

"I'll join then! I will show you!"

A look of amusement appeared on Yuri Alpha's face.

The noble woman stormed off upstairs back to her room.

Although they could not see it, there was a similar grin on her face as well.

…

Everyone in the restaurant, including the Blue Rose adventurers, had simply dismissed this as a desperate and impulsive response by the proud noblewoman. Clearly, it was a joke. However—

The young slender, cloaked figure standing in the center of the arena bore a striking resemblance to the noble woman. Her alabaster white skin. Her gorgeous blond hair. Her arrogant stance and attitude.

Gagaran leaned close to Lakyus and whispered.

"Why is she wearing a mask and a cloak?"

The Blue Rose leader spent a minute thinking before answering.

"I suspect it is to hide her identity to minimize the shame when she fails."

"Alternatively, it could be a ploy to look stronger in the face of other opponents. After all, if the combatants in the Battle Royale saw a young vulnerable noble woman, she would certainly be the first target up for elimination. It is a good habit to eliminate the weaklings first in a battle."

Gagaran was impressed.

"I am looking forward to her performance."

"Don't be so quick to judge, Gagaran. Remember, if what the butler said was true, then it is likely that she possesses similar magical items that are effective against the undead."

Noticing their discussion regarding the masked noblewoman, one of the adventurers stepped forward and added.

"Well, actually-"

…

Apparently, the adventurer had eavesdropped on the noblewoman and her butler and she had mentioned that the stench of failure from the human adventurers was incredibly nauseating, and hence she would be wearing a mask from now on.

…

"I hope she gets bashed to death…"

Gagaran looked at the young, fragile looking noblewoman who was standing in front of the Death Knight.

…

The evening sun cast a dark red shadow on the ground as Brain and Climb strolled through the market. Due to the tall walls surrounding E-Rantel, the fortress city, the shadows were often deep and contrasted vividly with the surroundings, giving an oil painting impression on the scenery.

Brain Unglaus had brown eyes with cerulean blue hair that was messy and gave the impression of a wild beast. His face was chiseled and rugged, and he wore a simple chainmail armor and a necklace and ring which were infused with protection magic.

His body was lean and his muscles were as tough as steel and tempered through experience.

Alongside him, Climb was wearing a dazzling white armor gifted to him by the Princess. It still shined with a pearly white gleam despite the red evening sun casting a maroon glow on everything else.

Brain casually looked at the selection of goods on display.

With the dense congregation of adventurers and warriors, there were many visiting merchants from the Baharuth Empire and the Re-Estize Kingdom peddling their wares.

There was a plethora of swords, shields, daggers, amulets, rings, bows, arrows, shields, and armor on sale. Customers were excitedly browsing through the items and examining them closely.

Once in a while, a Death Knight would patrol by, and the atmosphere would grow tense, but would quickly pass.

 _It seems people were getting used to the presence of the undead in the city._

Brain thought while absentmindedly playing with his necklace and ring.

Frankly, Brain Unglaus owned many high class enchanted items and did not need any of the merchandise on display.

Both he and Climb were simply on reconnaissance.

After all, they were both present at the Battle of Katze Plains and at the duel between Gazef and the Sorcerer King. They were intimately familiar with the power of Ainz Ooal Gown, and hence wanted to study the city under the rule of the Sorcerer King as much as possible.

"What do you think of the match today?"

Brain was referring to the Death Knight strength contests.

"Well-"

"I don't think he was telling the full truth…"

"I get the feeling that he would have been able to beat the Death Knight even without the help of the enchanted gloves."

"That's an astute observation, Climb."

Brain nodded in approval.

They had both personally witnessed the immense strength that Sebas possessed in their fight against the Six Fingers back in the Re-Estize Kingdom's capital.

"It is true that his strength is extraordinary. If possible, I would like to know more about him and his mistress. However—"

Brain and Climb recalled Sebas asking them not to pry into his background.

"Considering how the tournament is only open to the citizens of the Baharuth Empire, the Sorcerous Kingdom, and the Re-Estize Kingdom, I was surprised to see him here."

"I had thought he was originally from another human nation further away."

Brain was familiar with the names of many of the strong people in both nations, and had never heard of any rumors regarding an insanely powerful butler with monk abilities.

"Do you think they are spies looking to gather information about the Sorcerer King?"

"Hm… It certainly is possible. The founding of the Sorcerous Kingdom sent ripples across the world. In truth, I am amazed that the Slane Theocracy has not intervened."

 _No, that is not true._

 _Against an opponent who was capable of annihilating 100,000 men in one instant, it was best to maintain an amicable relationship while looking for any weaknesses that could be exploited._

 _It is likely that the Slane Theocracy would send spies, but not engage in open conflict._

"And his Mistress… She might also be a formidable fighter. It is possible that her tantrums have been a ruse to cover their true intentions."

"However, I feel that her arrogance and the way she looks down on the other contestants was not an act."

As Brain continued to speculate, he recalled how easily the masked noble woman managed to subdue and repel the Death Knight in a similar fashion to the well-dressed butler.

'Oh! Cherry boy-"

Brain and Climb met up with the Blue Rose adventurers.

As usual, Gagaran sized up Brain and smiled with approval.

"You've changed, Unglaus-san."

Brain did not answer, but simply gestured in acknowledgement.

It was true that Brain had changed dramatically since the death of his rival, Gazef. For the first few weeks, he was absolutely depressed. It was similar to the despair he felt when he had fought against the powerful vampire, Shalltear, and had his confidence shattered.

Fortunately, he had grown substantially in both physical and mental fortitude since his meeting with Gazef and Sebastian, and was able to accept the death of his rival and push forward.

 _I even learnt [Nail Clipper]!_

Brain thought about how his technique had evolved while glancing at Climb.

He had also found someone worth protecting other than himself.

The boy who was able to withstand the intense bloodlust produced by Sebas while he, a person once known as the genius sword master, was quivering uncontrollably and fell to his knees.

Lakyus spoke first.

"So, what do you think about the fight today?"

"Do you mean Sebas?"

"Yes, that man. He was the one both of you mentioned back in the capital, right? The one who aided you in beating the Six Finger members."

"That is correct."

"I was hoping to speak to him after the fight, but both he and his mistress disappeared rather swiftly. It was quite suspicious. Fortunately, I did manage to leave a message at their room at the Shining Golden Pavillion."

"He is a good man!"

Climb interjected loudly in a panic.

This elicited a chuckle from Lakyus.

"Don't worry. I know. I felt a sense of honesty and discipline from that man. He is not an evil person."

Brain was the next person to talk.

"Anyways, what do you think of the city so far?"

Although the question seemed innocent, the leader of Blue Rose knew what Brain Unglaus meant.

He wanted to ask about her opinion on the rule of the Sorcerer King.

Lakyus motioned to the crowd.

"I think it is best if we discussed it elsewhere, Brain."

"Anyways, I think the city itself is a safe place, and I do not detect any overt displays of coercion on the general populace. I will leave it at that for now…"

"However, I cannot be certain that this is not a facade by the Sorcerer King. After all, he is an undead lich."

Finally, Climb spoke.

"So, when do you plan on fighting against the Death Knight. I did not get the chance to see the famous Blue Rose in action back in the fight against the Demon Jaldabaoth.

 _The Demon Jaldabaoth…_

Evileye, Tia, and Gagaran recalled the strange and menacing demon who unleashed terror and destruction on the capital recently. He wore strange clothing which was reminiscent of a full suit, a garment which was worn in the south, and had a tail. However, he also wore a mask which made it impossible to see his face.

The demon had invaded the capital to search for a powerful object which was currently in the custody of the Royal Guards, and kept safely in the treasury so it could be studied by the Mage's Guild.

"We will likely participate in the contest tomorrow."

Lakyus answered.

"Anyways, why are all of you out here this evening?"

Climb asked innocently.

"Well-"

It was Evileye who responded this time.

"We were looking for any information regarding the origins of this Sorcerer King."

"All the historical records in the archives held no mention of Ainz Ooal Gown."

Brain asked. "Did you find anything?"

"Sadly, no."

Blue Rose, Brain, and Climb continued to walk along the markets while contemplating the situation. They ignored the calls of the merchants beckoning them to browse through their wares, as well as the hushed whispers of the warriors and tourists as they recognized the adamantite ranked adventurers.

Eventually, the conversation went back to the performance by Sebas in the sparring match against the Death Knight today.

"I would like to meet with this 'Sebas' person. In particular, I am interested in his magical items which are effective against the undead."

Lakyus continued.

"If Climb-san and Brain-san both vouch for this man, then I will trust him as well."

"We need all the help we can get at the moment against this powerful foe."

Brain nodded in agreement.

He recalled the events during the duel between the Sorcerer King and Gazef.

The metallic smell of blood pervaded the scene, and the cacophony of screams and cries filled the air along with the 'baas' and 'mehs' of sheep.

Soldiers who had abandoned their courage ran away as fast as they could around them.

At the central clearing, a robed lich with a bleached skull and the honorable Warrior Captain of the Re-Estize Kingdom glared at each other.

Gazef Stronoff was a muscular man of around thirty years old. He had a sunbathed dark face with noticeable wrinkles, short trimmed black hair, and black eyes that were as sharp as a sword. He was widely considered one of the Kingdom's strongest warriors, even exceeding some adamantite class adventurers. He was the Kingdom's trump card.

He was fully adorned with the treasures of the kingdom.

Climb rang the bell that was in his hand.

With blazing speed, Gazef stepped in with an unbelievable speed-

In the moment that Gazef had charged out, he had suddenly fallen over.

-Gazef slowly fell.

Ainz stepped forward to catch Gazef's body.

His sword fell from his dead fingers and fell to the ground with a loud clang.

The battle was over instantaneously.

Yet, there was no way to comprehend it.

Neither Climb nor Brain had taken their eyes off of the battle, and neither did they blink.

But the battle was over.

And the Warrior Captain, Brain's rival, was dead.

This scene was forever engrained in Brain's mind.

He also remembered the conversation that the Sorcerer King had with Gazef before the battle, and how nonchalantly Gazef had allowed him to examine his equipment. In particular, one part stood out.

 _Was he lying when he said it?_

 _Why would he reveal information like that so casually?_

Brain absentmindedly caressed the sheathed, glowing broadsword that was secured at his waist.

Razor's Edge

One of the five treasures of the Re-Estize Kingdom and known for its ability to slice through armor like paper.

For some reason, Brain felt that this sword would play a role in the upcoming battle against the Sorcerer King.

…

…

Meanwhile, in the royal throne room of Nazarick...

A blushing and panting Albedo was gawking at the skeletal Overlord that was seated on the throne.

"-Yes, Albedo?"

"Sebas will be arriving shortly. However, he wanted me to pass on a message to your majesty, Ainz-sama."

"The plan has been a success. Sebas has already been contacted by several parties-"

 _Excellent._

Ainz probed further.

"Have we discovered their identities, Albedo?"

"Yes. There were two parties who contacted Sebas. One of them was the adventurer party, Blue Rose."

 _Hm… that was to be expected. The Kingdom would naturally try to expand their knowledge base regarding the Sorcerer Kingdom since the massacre at Katze Plains. It was unlikely that they were the ones who had brainwashed Shalltear._

 _But who was the other?_

"Sebas was unsure about the second party, but we suspect it is from the Slane Theocracy."

"I see…."

Ainz felt guilty about using Sebas as bait once again, but amongst the NPCs of Nazarick, there were only a few who could assume a humanoid form.

Realizing that Albedo was waiting for further instruction on how to proceed, Ainz hastily added.

"Command Sebas to investigate further. We will minimize contact with him for now to hide our involvement."

"Yes, Ainz-sama!"

"But what about her?"

"The human pet that Sebas adopted back in the Kingdom."

Ainz stopped to think about who Albedo was referring to. Finally, realization dawned upon him.

The loyalty of every NPC in Nazarick was guaranteed. However-

"Yes…she could be a problem."

Although Tsuare has pledged herself to the service of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, her loyalty and affection primarily belonged to Sebas and not Ainz…

She was human.

 _-and humans were weak who could easily be broken._

Ainz made his decision.

"Although it pains me, she must be dealt with in a fitting manner if she jeopardizes Sebas' cover."

"At the moment, we will leave her be."

"I will leave it to you, Albedo."

The succubus beside Ainz smiled maliciously and bowed.

"Thank you, Ainz-sama. Any threat to Nazarick will be dealt with appropriately."

* * *

Author note: Special thanks to Chuffedchips for helping me with some scenes in this chapter.

Good luck with exams!


	17. Hero Exam Ch3

Inside a room that was declared off limits to all except two people in Nazarick-

A frightened girl was trembling uncontrollably as she steeled herself for what she was about to do.

Beads of sweat dropped profusely from her slender body while her arms were clutched together in a feeble attempt to control her quivering.

She looked at the cause of all her restlessness.

 _Can I really do it?_

Doubt began to grow in her mind.

After a hasty glance at her surroundings to confirm that no one else was watching, she gulped involuntarily.

Her body was filled with unease and trepidation, and seemed unwilling to follow her commands.

Her mind was raging with turmoil.

The fluttering in her heart sped up.

 _Would it be painful?_

 _I can't go through with it!_

She thought of the man that she loved dearly, and a feeling of renewed vigor coursed through her veins.

 _If it is for him…_

 _I will do anything…_

She squirmed slightly as the cold, wet fabric of her sweat drenched clothing pressed against her maiden chest.

Her breath became steamy.

Albedo was finally going to cross that line.

There was no going back.

She pulled her legs apart.

She felt vulnerable and exposed.

 _If that's the kind of girl Ainz-sama likes…_

 _I will do anything…_

Quivering with nervousness, she lifted one leg up.

And stepped on the Ainz body pillow that was lying on the ground.

"Ahh-hhhh"

A jolt of electricity ran up her slender leg.

In her left arm, Albedo was clutching a red book that read [An Easy Guide to Building Your Own BDSM Dungeon].

It was a book that Ainz had secretly been reading, and did not want the other guardians to find out.

In other words, it was a forbidden tome.

Albedo had spent the last few days studying its contents.

While it mainly pertained to building a BDSM dungeon, it also contained an unnecessarily detailed refresher on the types of roleplay that occurred in these dungeons as well as performance tips.

Even as a succubus, it made her blush.

She understood the need for secrecy.

After all, Ainz was a well-respected leader, and needed to maintain his reputation.

The guardians were naturally submissive to their master and ruler, Ain— Momonga-sama.

 _Momonga-sama should know that I would do anything he wants, whenever and wherever!_

 _She recalled how her Lord punished Shalltear by sitting on her._

Albedo had made it abundantly clear that she was willing to be of service to him at any time, whether for pleasure or otherwise.

Despite this, he had never shown any significant interest.

 _But what if-_

Albedo hugged the red book tighter.

BDSM.

Bondage. Dominance. Sadism. Masochism.

 _What if he had special tastes?_

 _It would explain everything._

 _After all, he was a Supreme Being._

 _It would be silly to assume that his preferences would be the same as mere commoners._

However, in case she was mistaken, she has decided to learn both the dominant and submissive roles in order to better accommodate her Master's desires.

She needed to practice and train herself.

Albedo was woefully inexperienced.

She was not Lupus-Regina, nor Shalltear.

Today was a 'dominance' day.

And it had been an incredibly challenging night.

Albedo rested her foot on the Momonga body pillow.

Although the book had suggested wearing high heels, she found herself unable to do so in fear of hurting her Master.

She rubbed her toes on the torso area of the body pillow, and tried to apply a bit of pressure.

 _I can't do it!_

Albedo immediately relaxed her foot and lifted it off the pillow.

 _I can't do it!_

 _But!_

 _If that is what Momonga-sama likes!_

Albedo tried her best to endure it.

The action of intentionally causing pain to her beloved Momonga hurt her greatly.

The book had also suggested that she use coarse and demeaning language on the other person, but Albedo found that impossible. She would never be able to willingly insult her love, Momonga-sama.

It was beyond her capabilities for now.

 _But what if he liked to watch?_

 _Watching someone humiliating another was also a pleasurable act documented in the book._

 _Maybe tomorrow would be a good opportunity to practice…_

 _Yes, she would ask him to be there as well…_

Albedo looked at the polished white skull with ruby red points set in deep dark sockets which glowed and the accompanying magnificent bony frame.

She inched her foot lower down.

The feeling of the soft silk fabric of the pillow sent chills up her leg and down her spine.

It was cool and smooth.

 _Is this what Momonga's bones would feel like?_

 _How would they taste?_

Albedo licked her lips longingly.

Her foot slowly slid lower and lower along his sternum.

Then his ribs.

Then down his spine.

With each step, she added more pressure and slid lower and lower.

The pillow felt cold and firm.

Finally, it reached a sensitive area.

Albedo took several deep breaths.

Her chest was heaving.

Her nostrils flared.

Her world was spiraling.

Her wings were flapping passionately.

Moans of ecstasy were escaping her lips.

Her body began to stiffen.

She felt a familiar tingle in her lower abdomen.

 _Just a little bit lower._

 _Just a little bit more._

Slowly and breathlessly, her foot inched lower to his pelvis.

While with her free hand-

…

…

…

* * *

The fourth day of the tournament had arrived.

The morning dew added a crystalline shimmer to the surrounding greenery and trees. The beads of water collected on the upper surfaces of leaves and in the low point of the stems, adding a humid and pungent grassy aroma. As the morning sunlight hit the beads of dew, it created a light reflection that added a healthy gleam to the natural foliage.

As the contestants walked towards the stadium, the wet and slick ground, as well as the moisture on the grass, was quickly soaking through their shoes and pant legs.

Instead of the luxurious white carriage and the scantily clad vampire bride, there were two figures standing at the edge of the dark grey, ceramic tiled arena.

There were instantly recognizable.

One was a dark, bewitching beauty wearing a white dress accentuated with golden ornaments and a pair of delicate black wings; The Guardian Overseer, Albedo.

The other was a foreboding skeletal lich Overlord who radiated authority and was the personification of Death itself; The mighty ruler of Nazarick and the Sorcerous Kingdom, Ainz Ooal Gown.

The bodies and muscles of the contestants instinctively tensed up.

They frowned as they gazed upon these terrible figures.

 _Why were the Sorcerer King and his second in command here?_

A Death Knight stood in the center of the arena.

The contestants could not sense that something was amiss. Nothing else seemed to be out of place.

This time however, none of the combatants strode forward to challenge the Death Knight.

They all looked at each other warily.

Finally, one brave soul walked up.

It was not a Blue Rose adventurer, nor was it Brain or Climb.

The man was of common birth, but he had a warrior's latent talent. He was built like a bear. He had a barrel chest, broad shoulders, and a large waist with strong, well developed thighs and calves. Years of plowing the fields gave him a sculpted physique. He wore a vest made of some unknown yet sturdy exotic leather.

Gaius was carrying a massive spear that was at least 8ft long. The tip was reinforced with orichalcum for maximum penetration.

He glared at the Death Knight and readied his stance.

The eyes of both Ainz and Albedo were on him.

[Minor Brutality]

[Minor Savagery]

[Strengthen Perception]

[Gale Acceleration]

With a silent howl, Gaius burst into swirling dust and was gone.

It was a thrust that would have skewered any wild beast.

The Death Knight would be too slow in raising its shield in defense.

Gaius was aiming for the exposed face in the helm.

It was a move that he had practiced and successfully utilized many times in the past.

 _At least, that's what should have happened…_

The tip of the spear was effortlessly deflected by the Death Knight who was able to wield the gigantic tower shield with astounding ease.

The shield bash soon followed.

Although Gaius had seen this move many times in the previous fights, he was too slow to dodge it.

He was sent flying several meters in the air and landed on the ground.

While he suffered only minor injuries, his pride was wounded.

He was disarmed, and his spear was lying on the ground with the shaft shattered from the forceful impact with the shield.

While it was not necessary for a contestant to evade the shield bash, if they were disarmed or incapable of continuing, it was an automatic end to the session.

Gaius looked at the two figures at the edge of the arena and awaited their judgement. He saw a small dent on the Death Knight's shield.

"That was shameful!"

"Worthless!"

"Let's see-"

"I think maggot would suit you"

"Next!"

…

"—Eh?"

The crowd remained silent.

 _While it was not a spectacular performance, wasn't her assessment unnecessarily harsh?_

Gaius limped dejectedly back into the corner and hung his head in shame.

Albedo shot a quick glance at Ainz.

The next contestant was a short, small person wearing a blood red robe and a cryptic mask which hid her face.

Evileye, the enigmatic fighter from the adamantite ranked Blue Rose party.

However, the diminutive figure seemed distracted as she walked forward. Her head was covertly looking left and right as if she was searching for someone.

Finally, she looked ahead and faced her opponent, the terrifying Death Knight.

She gripped a short crystal dagger in her hands.

This elicited frowns and scrutinizing glares from the group of people behind her.

It was a poor choice of weapon for the heavily armed Death Knight.

However, for Evileye, it was the best weapon she could currently and competently wield.

She was primarily a magic caster. An exceptional elementalist who specialized in Earth magic, she was an unparalleled mage who was even able to cast 5th tier magic.

Her signature spells were Insecticide magic, Shard buck shots, and Crystal lance.

Unfortunately, magic was explicitly banned in this Martial Arts Tournament, and this left her at a significant disadvantage.

Still, she was an adamantite ranked adventurer, and her innate abilities as a Vampire Princess gave her phenomenal agility and speed that surpassed many high ranked adventurers.

She ran forward.

While she could not use the [Martial Arts], her natural speed as an undead vampire more than compensated for it. She was also lightweight and agile.

The Death Knight raised its shield to block the charge.

Evileye jumped and galloped over the shield like a gymnast vaulting over an obstacle.

She looked for a weak point in the armor to stab.

'Ugh-"

The Death Knight spun around before she could deliver a blow.

Although the Death Knight was quick, Evileye was faster.

She easily evaded the shield bash, and continued to find a vulnerable point.

If she was a warrior like a certain former Black Scripture assassin who enjoyed wearing the medals of her prey as trophies, it was likely that she would be able to injure the Death Knight.

However, Evileye's talents were still primarily magical in nature, and she was not able to land a finishing blow.

This back and forth exchange lasted for an entire minute before the time out was called.

While she was not able to inflict significant damage to the Death Knight, it was still an admirable performance.

The crowd anxiously awaited her score.

…

"Hmph!"

"What a cowardly act from a small fly!"

"What should I rate you? How about-"

"A tiny, insignificant flea."

"Next!"

…

"-Eh?"

A dumbstruck Ainz turned to look at Albedo and noticed that she was staring back.

There seemed to be a weird gleam in her eyes as she breathed heavily and gazed at him.

It was different from the usual looks of admiration and adoration that shone in her eyes.

 _Was she studying my reaction?_

Ainz debated if she should admonish Albedo and force her to explain.

 _Maybe her hatred for humans ran deeper than I thought?_

 _Or has she spent too much time with Narberal Gamma?_

 _It was true that Evileye was not able to inflict any damage the Death Knight, but she had shown_ exceptional skill in evading the Death Knight's attacks despite her handicap.

After a while, he decided that publicly confronting his second in command would conjure a poor image of his authority to the surrounding witnesses.

 _I have to show that, as a leader, my subordinate was acting in accordance to my wishes._

Ainz gave a very faint nod of approval to Albedo who was looking intensely at him.

This led to an eager expression on her face and a wide, beaming smile.

 _I knew it! He liked watching this sort of play!_

For some reason, Ainz shivered as he saw the happy grin on his second in command's face.

Evileye retreated despondently and clutched her chest.

 _I understand that I can't use Martial Arts, but she didn't need to be that hurtful!_

 _And why did she emphasize the words 'small' and 'tiny''?_

The next person who stood forward was a mysterious person clad in a metallic, chrome armor.

His face was hidden underneath his helm, and his armor blazed in the sun like a blinding silver fire.

There seemed to be a small hole in the suit in the front and back that was of a different hue that suggested a recent repair.

Ainz stiffened and his eyes narrowed.

He felt an unusual aura surrounding this gallant knight in shining armor.

Like the first contestant, the silver knight was carrying a hefty lance in his right hand.

It seems like he had discarded his shield as his opponent was not using a weapon. This allowed him increased mobility and striking power.

The lance was made of an unknown smooth and polished metal.

There were no visible flaws, dents, or rust on the weapon. It looked like it had not seen any combat for many years.

The knight assumed a combat stance and readied his lance.

Everyone held their breath as they watched this radiant warrior standing valiantly against the evil Death Knight. It was a scene ripped straight from a fairy tale.

However, unlike the first combatant, he did not begin chanting [Martial Arts] skills.

Furthermore, he moved significantly quicker than expected.

His agility seemed disproportionate to the heavy looking armor that he had equipped.

A glistening tip protruded from the Death Knight's exposed shoulder where there was no armor.

This drew surprised gasps from everyone.

After four days of sparring, this was the first contestant to actually injure the Death Knight.

Unperturbed, the Death Knight began its signature shield bash counterattack.

Except-

The arm would not move.

The injury had severed the ligaments necessary to rotate its shoulder.

Sensing this, the Death Knight attempted to use the uninjured arm, but the luminous knight had already retreated in that small window of opportunity.

Despite its strength, the Death Knight had been given strict instructions and was very mechanical in its movements. Since the fight with Gagaran in the past, it had been told not to charge forward.

It remained standing and did not pursue the radiant knight, who was retreating steadily.

Ainz was flabbergasted.

 _Who was this opponent?_

 _Was it another player?_

 _No, this level of skill was too weak._

 _Nonetheless, it was an impressive performance._

He gave a soft chuckle. The knight would be a fantastic addition to his upcoming adventurer squad. At the very least, it would warrant further investigation.

The crowd waited with anticipation at the announcement of the Shining Knight's score.

…

Albedo opened her mouth then closed it.

The eyes of everyone, including Ainz, were on her.

She squirmed and said hesitantly.

"Pathe-"

"Hm…"

Albedo paused while thinking of what to say next.

Suddenly, she raised her head high and let out a sadistic laugh.

"Ah ha—haha-hahaha."

"Yes! Your pathetic struggle pleases me!"

"What an obedient cockroach!"

"Next!"

…

Ainz was stunned.

 _"_ _Why are all his love interests like this?!"_

The panting Albedo glared at him with a look that excitedly awaited his approval.

 _What should I do!_

Ainz took a quick glance at the crowd and saw similar expressions of disbelief.

 _Still, I have to maintain an image of authority…_

Reluctantly, he gave her another small nod of validation.

A shriek of pleasure escaped from Albedo.

 _I will need to talk to Albedo in private about this later._

…

The metallic armor clad warrior remained silent and merely bowed to both Ainz and Albedo before walking away. This drew disappointed looks from the crowd. After all, they were curious to see his face and hear his voice.

Eventually, the day came to a close with close to 100 contestants participating in the sparring matches. It was about half of yesterday's volume, but the reason was obvious.

Ainz needed a way to identify the contestants who had passed todays test. After all, he needed to narrow down the top 48 contestants for the 12x4 battle royale.

"Alright-"

He struggled to remember the assignments.

"Cockroaches! Please raise your hands!"

A single shining gauntlet stood out amongst the crowd.

"Okay-"

"Fleas! Please raise your hands!"

Another single hand rose.

"Okay-"

"How about the worms? Please raise your hands!"

Three hands came up this time.

"Ants?"

Four hands came up.

"Then the maggots?"

Thirty hands shot up.

Ainz assumed the rest were not assigned a title or score due to their performance.

"Alright-"

"Insects who are ants and above… You are part of the top 48 who will participate in the Battle Royale!"

…

…

* * *

Albedo paced back and forth in her room.

The day did not go as expected.

Although her master Momonga-sama had initially indicated his approval, he later appeared and scolded her.

 _What did I do wrong?_

She hurriedly looked through the red book.

 _Maybe Momonga-sama wanted to watch me being humiliated?!_

 _After all, the book mentioned that some people took pleasure in watching their loved ones being ravished and taken by other people._

Albedo scanned through the book once more.

 _It also mentions that I need the appropriate clothing._

The Guardian Overseer sat on her bed while pondering this dilemma. Her wardrobe was extremely limited, and it would be difficult to go out to purchase clothing. In the past, she had requested dresses from Lord Momonga, but she did not want him to find out that she had taken the book in which he specifically requested to be kept hidden in the library under his personal collection.

There was only one solution.

She sighed.

Frankly, this was the last person she wanted to seek help from.

Albedo made her way up to the 1st floor of Nazarick and knocked on the door of her rival.

"Oh- Shalltear! Are you inside?"

The final two days of the sparring exam came and went quickly.

Due to the hijinks in the last few sessions, Ainz had decided to let Mare and Cocytus take charge of the performance assessments. He was confident that the last two days of testing would run flawlessly.

Mare held the notebook tight in his hands as he methodically jolted down all the different types of [Martial Arts] that he had seen.

Cocytus studied the different combat approaches by the various contestants and gave accurate assessments of each of them.

His training as a warrior even allowed him to give advice and point out possible room for improvements.

Lakyus was the first to enter the arena.

The leader of Blue Rose, she wielded the legendary blade of darkness and possessed an uncannily good judgement of character, which allowed her to unite the members of the adamantite ranked party.

"Hm. Very. Good. You. Pass."

Next were the Lizardmen brothers that Cocytus had been training religiously in Nazarick.

"Excellent. You. Have. Made. Great. Progress. Pass"

The twins, Tia and Tina came afterwards, followed by Brain Unglaus and Climb.

Next were two of the Four Legendary Knights of the Baharuth Empire.

Eventually, all the notable characters had passed the combat strength contest against the Death Knight and made it through to the Battle Royale part of the tournament.

The ones who made it to the top 48 were rewarded appropriately with 100 gold pieces each.

There would be some serious celebrating in the streets and taverns tonight.

And so the Death God, His Majesty, the Sorcerer King Ainz Ooal Gown, decreed that the 7th day of the tournament would be a day of rest.

…

…

* * *

The roads were filled with life as people chatted excitedly and shoppers darted to and fro from the stalls. Fragrant aromas of roasted meat and ripe fruits pervaded the city.

E-Rantel was a city divided into three zones and separated by tall walls. Each zone had their own unique characteristics. The inner zone contained the administrative offices while the outer zone was for military and infrastructure use. The biggest area was the middle zone, which was both a residential area and a commercial haven.

The biggest plaza in the middle zone was called the Central Plaza, and it held many different shops, stalls, and merchandise. It was the commercial hub of the city, and it was full of people today.

One of them was a gracefully aged butler sporting a time-honored black and white uniform which was immaculately pressed and completely wrinkle-free. His hair was entirely white and his beard was neatly trimmed. A white handkerchief was in his left breast pocket, and his shoes were clean and polished despite the dirt on the ground.

Sebas took note of his surroundings.

"It has changed quite a bit since I left…"

The last time that Sebas visited E-Rantel was right after the subjugation of the city by the Sorcerer King.

Although he had been in the city for the last week, both he and Solution mainly confined themselves in their room in the Shining Golden Pavillion so they could freely teleport back and forth to Nazarick.

"It's been so busy, but I'm glad Ainz-sama's plan worked out."

Sebas had a gentle heart.

He never understood the cruelty and malice that his fellow guardians and NPCs in Nazarick held for humans.

 _I can never understand him._

The image of Demiurge appeared in his mind.

His colleague seemed to take pride and enjoyment in the suffering of humans. Although Demiurge was not the only one in Nazarick with a sadistic personality, Sebas found it incredibly challenging to get along with Demiurge.

Perhaps it was because their creators never got along? At least, that was the explanation that Lord Ainz had given them.

Sebas remembered his creator, Touch Me.

The World Champion. A silver paladin with unrivaled strength and a humble heart. He frequently wore a shining white armor with a large sapphire embedded in the center of his chest. His armor had abilities that surpassed divine class items and even rivaled some guild weapons.

His Creator would help people in times of need without hesitation, and was the one who initially appointed Lord Momonga as guild master.

As if fate had heard his thoughts, a familiar scene appeared before him.

Struggling with a heavy basket filled with vegetable and produce, an elderly woman with long, silver-pale hair stumbled along the street. As small and grey as a mouse, she did not speak a word as she endeavored to carry her cumbersome burden.

Therefore, it was not a surprise what would happen next.

"Oops-"

The wicker basket fell to the floor while several large radishes rolled on the ground.

A small smile appeared on Sebas' lips.

The words of his creator echoed in his ears.

 _"_ _Saving someone who is in trouble is common sense!"_

Sebas bent over to pick up the fallen vegetables.

When he reached for the last one, a pale hand went past and brushed against his.

The hand retracted as if burnt.

Sebas looked at the face of the person whose hands touched his.

She had blond hair that was streaked with warm reddish hues and butterscotch. It gave her warmth, complementing her pale face and giving her a rather wholesome look. Her eyes were a watery blue, and there were a few freckles sprinkled over her nose and upper cheeks.

She had a slender, curving waist and was dressed in a simple white dress without any needless frills or laces.

When their eyes met, Tsuare blushed.

Her cheeks turned a rosy red.

When she turned her head, her blond hair which fell in a straight line midway down her back moved around her like a liquid while the shorter strands hung forward to hide her eyes.

Realizing her body's involuntary reaction, Tsuare flushed with anger and embarrassment.

She immediately looked downwards to avoid his gaze.

 _She was in a bad mood, and had still not forgiven him._

Innocently unaware of his companion's temperament, Sebas picked up the last radish on the ground and handed it to the old lady, who began to bow and thank him profusely.

He then offered to help carry the basket, but the elderly woman repeatedly refused his offers.

As if on cue, several anxious looking young men walked up behind her and shouted.

Sebas felt a weak tug on his sleeve.

"OBAA-SAN!"

"Jeez! Why do you keep walking ahead!"

"Let me carry that!"

'You shouldn't be doing this at your age!"

"Argh!"

"Stop being so stubborn!"

Eventually, the youngsters managed to take the basket from their grandmother.

One of them faced Sebas and gave a curt bow.

"Thanks for helping my grandmother. She's always like this."

This earned him a quick pull on the ears by the elderly lady standing behind her.

"Ahhh!"

A single bead of sweat rolled down Sebas' temple.

The remaining youngsters began to chat animatedly with Sebas.

Sebas felt another tug on his sleeve.

He caught sight of the lone, young girl with blond hair and freckles hugging his arm tightly with both arms.

Sebas could not see Tsuare's face which was hidden behind the tousled caramel, blond hair that fell across her pale shoulders. It seemed like she was intentionally avoiding his gaze.

Sebas turned back to face the youth. "Excuse us. Please take care."

They soon parted ways.

Thinking to himself, Sebas realized that Tsuare had not yet gotten over her fear and trauma of other people, particularly males.

Once again, he glanced at his side.

She had still not taken her eyes off the ground, but her grip on his arm had slackened.

However, he could still feel the heat from her slender body and the sensation of her delicate chest rising up and down against his arm. The moisture in her warm breath gave him goosebumps.

It made Sebas feel uncomfortable, but it was not an unpleasant sensation.

They arrived at their destination and entered the shop.

It was a small and quaint clothing boutique that was located off the corner in the Central Plaza.

Sebas had requested the shadow demon guards to scout beforehand for suitable clothing stores that were either empty or had very few customers.

After all, he had promised to go shopping for Tsuare. Aside from maid uniforms and secondhand clothing from the homunculi maids in Nazarick, she did not own many other pieces of clothing.

Although Sebas would have preferred the selection in the Kingdom or the Baharuth Empire, the cities were too populated and it would be difficult for Tsuare as she was still unable to function in large crowds.

Furthermore, E-Rantel was safer as it was the stronghold of the Sorcerous Kingdom.

Sebas glanced at Tsuare. He was confused.

 _Why is she irritated?_

When Sebas had initially proposed the shopping trip, Tsuare was ecstatic. She was trembling with excitement.

 _But now-_

A middle aged woman with a measuring tape hanging from her neck rushed out to meet them and impatiently ushered them inside.

Born from years of experience, she methodically measured Tsuare with mechanical precision.

"And what is the young lady looking for?"

Sebas waited for Tsuare to speak, but no answer came forth.

Neither Sebas nor Tsuare were familiar with choosing clothing.

For Sebas, he had always worn the traditional butler uniform designed by his creator, Lord Touch-Me. He had never needed any other garment.

For Tsuare, it had been ages since she had cared for clothing. After all, she had been forced to work in a brothel for the last few years. However, even when she was living with her parents, the abject poverty they lived in meant that the only garments she had were practical and functional rather than for beauty.

Fortunately, Sebas was prepared for this.

"Something simple will do."

He motioned for the girl on his left to speak up.

Esmeralda's hair was cut short and her blue eyes were warm with compassion. Her attire suggested that she was either an adventurer or in an occupation that required combat preparation. She had two small stilettos strapped to her belt, and a small traveler's backpack slung around her torso.

 _Yes, the reason for Tsuare's especially bad mood today was her._

Apparently, she was a traveler that Sebas and Solution had met on their carriage trip back to E-Rantel.

She had dashed out of an upscale restaurant in the Baharuth Empire to warn Sebas of an impeding bandit ambush, but eventually ended up accompanying both of them to E-Rantel. She had even participated in the sparring matches against the Death Knight in the tournament.

At the moment, her role was that of an advisor to Sebas.

To Tsuare, her role was that of a third wheel.

 _Why is she here!?_ thought Tsuare.

When she had asked Sebas, he gave a very matter of fact answer.

He had never gone shopping before.

Therefore, it was logical that he recruited someone who had more experience in choosing dresses. It was a logical course of action from the Head Butler, Steward of the 9th floor of the Tomb of Nazarick, and Leader of the Pleiades Combat Maids.

It was only natural to recruit someone with more knowledge in women's fashions to give him advice.

…

The shopkeeper and Esmerelda began to enthusiastically discuss the clothing options. They went to the backroom and rummaged through several articles of clothing before coming back outside. Their heated discussions echoed through the store.

"How about this-"

"No, we need something more—"

"Fair enough. What about-"

'Oh, this is pretty!"

"Is there a size for me as-"

"Hm, this is also-"

After twenty minutes or so, they came back carrying several heaps.

"Please come with me, Young Lady."

The middle aged shopkeeper beckoned Tsuare into the changing room and followed her inside.

Sebas and Esmerelda waited patiently outside for the result.

…

…

* * *

Inside the changing room, Tsuare was trying on several dresses with the overly excited shopkeeper.

"How about this?"

The shopkeeper handed a dress to Tsuare.

She picked it up and held it up.

Summoning all her strength to overcome her phobia, she stammered.

"Isn't it-a bit-long?"

The shop keeper froze and scowled.

"Nonsense! My measurements are exact!"

Tsuare put on the dress and looked in the body length mirror in front of her.

 _Huh? It fits._

The shopkeeper smiled and continued to gush about the positive aspects of the dress. After all, she was trying to score a sale.

Tsuare looked at the mirror once again.

Something was odd.

"How tall did you say I was again?"

"150cm"

"Eh-"

She paused.

 _Hm… It seems I was right._

Although Tsuare did not look it, she was almost 20 years old. As the elder sister of Ninya, she was taken away at a young age of 13 by a despicable noble and then sold to the brothel. She was fed poorly and starvation was a frequent occurrence. As a result, her natural growth had been considerably stunted.

She would always be smaller and shorter than people of the same age.

But-

 _Yes, I have definitely been growing taller._

 _Was it because of the healing magic?_

 _After all, her wounds had vanished as well without a single scar. Her illnesses and addictions were cured as well. It was feasible that some of her growth potential that was squandered due to years of malnourishment had been restored._

Tsuare smiled.

 _This is good._

Tsuare affectionately recalled the embarrassing scene when their lips touched in the hallway outside the throne room in Nazarick.

She remembered his scent.

She remembered his warmth.

She remembered the electrifying tingle she felt when they kissed.

Her first happy kiss.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she practically had to pull herself up to meet Sebas's lips despite standing on tip toes.

 _I just want to be a bit taller._

 _Then it would be easier to-_

…

…

Her face turned vermillion red.

She tried her best to restrain herself from touching her lips.

Tsuare glanced at the mirror once more to assess her looks, and did several twirls.

 _Although-_

 _-it would not hurt to grow in other places as well…_

Tsuare subconsciously puffed out her chest.

After hanging several garments in the rack inside the large dressing room, the middle aged shopkeeper walked towards Tsuare and asked.

"So- What do you think?"

Tsuare sputtered.

She was not sure how to reply. Frankly, there was only one reason why she wanted nice clothing now.

Once again, her heart fluttered as his image appeared in her mind.

She took a deep breath as she tried to recall the pleasant aroma of his well pressed clothing.

 _He always smelt fresh and clean._

Tsuare couldn't accurately describe his scent; merely that it was very pleasing and could cause her body to go numb for several seconds.

She could close her eyes and rub and sniff against him all day.

Tsuare remembered the tickle of his beard when their lips touched and let out a small giggle.

The wise shopkeeper noticed the love-struck look on her client's face and suggested, "Why don't we go outside and let them have a look?"

She gave Tsuare a knowing smile which caused her to blush even more.

The changing room felt unusually warm afterwards.

As they walked towards the exit of the dressing room, Tsuare tried to rationalize why her heart raced whenever she was with Sebas.

 _Why am I attracted to him? Is it because he saved me?_

 _Let see-_

 _He is handsome._

 _He is clean._

 _He is well dressed._

 _He is incredibly strong._

 _He is manly._

 _He is kind-hearted and honorable._

Frankly, the fact that he saved her life twice and rescued her from a hell of beatings, rape, starvation, and abuse was just icing on the cake.

 _He only had one flaw._

Tsuare exited the changing room and presented herself and displayed her new dress.

It was a simple marigold sun-dress with bright orange floral patterns that embodied the feeling of summer. The hem ended at her knees with white layered fringes. A dark brown satin ribbon circled her waist.

The dress was made of fine cotton, and felt lightweight and cool.

The neck had a scalloped edge with a teardrop opening.

It exposed her fair, delicate shoulders and complemented her butterscotch-blond hair.

"That suits you." Sebas commented.

His face was solemn and reserved with no overt displays of emotion.

There was no change in his tone of voice when she saw Tsuare in her new dress.

As the Head Butler, Steward of the 9th floor of the Tomb of Nazarick, and Leader of the Pleiades Combat Maids, Sebas maintained his stoic and guarded expression.

His composure was not easy broken.

His face was a statue chiseled out of marble.

His piercing grey eyes were deep as the ocean, but calm as the sea.

Sebas was a true butler in every sense of the word.

Tsuare pouted as she did several more twirls.

However, no matter how she postured or presented herself, his face remained expressionless.

 _Well-he did say it suited me…_

For good measure, she arched her back, giving him a better view of her goods and assets.

Like the cliff face of a mountain, Sebas remained unaffected.

 _Sigh…_

…

…

After trying on a few more dresses, they ended up buying just the first dress. It was the marigold sun-dress with floral patterns and the brown satin ribbon.

Initially, Sebas had protested as he felt all the dresses were suitable.

However, Tsuare was adamant that she only liked the first one.

Naturally, it was a blatant lie.

 _But if I got everything I needed, then there would be no opportunity to go out with him again!_

…

As they exited the store and joined the loud stream of shoppers and tourists, Tsuare immediately clung to her savior.

The mental scars from her traumatic experience had not yet fully healed.

…

Sebas looked around and admired the scenery.

Until twelve months ago when Nazarick was teleported into this unknown land, Sebas had never stepped foot outside of the Great Tomb of Nazarick.

Even so, his limited travels had only brought him to several cities, namely the capitals of the Baharuth Empire and the Re-Estize Kingdom, and E-Rantel before the occupation.

On his right, there were stalls manned by merchants who proudly displayed their wares. Each item was genuine and legitimate.

On his left, a stream of people moved through the streets while excitedly discussing the tournament and their future.

Sebas would catch whispers of perceived opportunity and adventure, as well as catch glimpses of the beaming faces of many young people who were filled with anticipation of joining the new adventurer's guild.

Further ahead, he saw a young village girl strolling proudly with a guard of goblins.

Two lizards walked past them.

Behind him, Sebas saw a patrolling Death Knight. The crowd gave it a wide berth.

However, compared to several weeks ago, the fear in their faces was greatly diminished.

Although one might expect the residents to be more afraid of the Death Knights than ever from the way they demolished the competition in the tournament, the opposite was true. In fact, they now appreciated the strength of their patrolling guardians.

Their primary fear, that the Death Knights would go berserk, was quenched by the fact that there were no serious injuries or casualties during the tournament. This was a testament to the self control exerted by the Sorcerer King.

At the risk of discouraging contestants by letting them face the all powerful Death Knights, the Sorcerer King's gamble paid off. Truly, he was a ruler that was always several moves ahead of the game.

Unlike the Capital of the Baharuth Empire, there were no beggars or orphans lining the streets. They had been relocated to proper housing or to the frontier villages to tend to the farms.

Unlike the Re-Estize Kingdom, there were no haughty nobles or abusive lords.

Despite being surrounded by terrifying Death Knights and nightmarish Soul Eaters, the residents of E-Rantel were able to shop and continue on with their lives without incident.

To Sebas, there was something about the E-Rantel that was different from the capital of the Empire and the Re-Estize Kingdom.

Everyone here was actively working hard to be productive.

"This is a strong city".

Sebas whispered to himself.

"Lord Ainz had truly outdone himself this time."

By hosting the tournament, he managed to attract only the strong to his city.

There is a large disparity in strength in this world. For instance, a low ranking adventurer may have the strength of 10 men. A high ranking adventurer may have the strength of 100 men. A troll would have the strength equivalent to 50 men, while a goblin may have the strength of half a man. An adamantite adventurer may have the strength of thousands, while a Death Knight might have the strength of tens of thousands.

In this harsh world, strength was everything.

The strong subjugated the weak.

It was a cruel reality.

It was a society full of discrimination.

A nation's top asset was their military and political might.

-and somehow, Ainz-sama had managed to bring them here without any bloodshed.

Looking around, Sebas saw the courageous faces of the residents of E-Rantel.

Those who stayed behind after the occupation had long accepted their grim fate, and had steeled themselves with an iron will. This made them strong.

Fledgling adventurers confronted their fears as they made their journey to the city of the undead to seek glory and thrills.

Even the merchants could be considered brave as they took risks despite the uncertainty and trekked all the way in search for fortune.

The undead were the enemy of the living. It was not prejudice. It was a fact. As far as anyone was concerned, there has been no documentation or witnesses to people who have encountered a merciful undead. This preconception was so strong that even the deeds of the vampire who became a companion of the Thirteen Heroes were forgotten, and she was only remembered as Landfall, the legendary vampire who destroyed a kingdom.

Despite this notion, they managed to live their lives while surrounded by terrifying monsters.

They swallowed their bias, pride, fear, and continued to stand and walk forward.

Those were the kind of people that the Sorcerer King invited to his city.

In a fantasy world where anything was possible if you had the strength to grasp it, the Sorcerer King had managed to recruit only the people with the will and determination to hold on to it.

Sebas observed his surroundings once more.

It was the beginning of an era of progress and industry.

With the help of Nazarick, everyone had been given an opportunity to work and contribute productively.

The beggars and the poor were given land to farm.

Merchants were freed from the heavy burden of unfair tariffs.

Farmers were given tools in the form of undead minions who would plow the field day and night without getting tired.

The people of the land were allowed to keep their crops and feed themselves.

Taxes were fair.

Miners were loaned powerful laborers who could work indefinitely.

Children were given an education.

Orphans and widowers were given a home.

Prisoners were given a second chance at rehabilitation.

Commoners were unchained from the shackles of the caste and nobility system, and free to live in a land of equal opportunity.

Social standing was determined on merit alone.

Knowledge of alchemical solutions and magical enchantments was expanding.

Research into runesmithing would soon follow.

Naturally, all the progress was done for the benefit of Nazarick and Ainz Ooal Gown.

However, the influence of the Great Tomb of Nazarick was slowly spilling into the city.

It was on the cusp of an industrial revolution.

It was a land of opportunity.

It was a land where someday, people of any race or social standing would be able to live together in harmony.

Sebas recalled the words of his current master, the Sorcerer King Ainz Ooal Gown.

 _"_ _As you all know; all companionships eventually come to an end."_

 _"_ _We only had one dream, and that dream was to be great."_

Sebas looked around one last time.

Yes.

Even though his creator had left him.

Even though his creator was no longer here.

In his heart, Sebas truly felt that this was turning into a city that Lord Touch-Me would have been proud of.

He spoke the same words once more.

"This is a strong city."

This was the city of E-Rantel.

…

…

…

Tsuare tugged on his sleeve, but there was no response.

She looked up and saw that Sebas was staring far away.

Tsuare tried to follow his gaze, but could not locate the point of interest.

His hawk grey eyes seemed to be peering beyond the horizon.

A soft whisper escaped his lips.

She took this chance while Sebas was preoccupied to admire his face.

His grey hair was sleeked back and shone with a healthy gleam.

His face was broad and his jawline was strong.

His cheekbones were high, and his face was gaunt.

Sharp gray shadows shrouded his features, and gave him a chiseled appearance.

His brow was heavy, and complemented his neutral expression.

The silver strands of hair gave an appearance of age and maturity, but his body was toned and muscular.

His skin was young and unblemished.

He stood tall and straight, and his posture was that of a trained fighter.

Overall, he looked human.

-except for his eyes.

They were wrong.

They had the right shape and color, but they held a quality that Tsuare had never seen in any human's eyes.

It had a greyish steel of a midwinter sky.

It was petrifying.

It was cold.

It was calculating.

It was deep.

It was intense.

It suggested a bottomless, unfathomable strength.

Yet, it was kind.

It was compassionate.

It was merciful.

It was righteous.

It was warm.

At the moment, his piercing grey eyes were shimmering like silver, and seemed to be staring passionately at something Tsuare could not see.

It was not simply the eyes of a warrior.

It was the eyes of a warrior—

-who believed in Justice.

It was the eyes of someone who would say something silly like 'Saving someone who is in trouble is common sense!'

…

…

…

Tsuare temporarily lost herself in his eyes.

After a while, she emerged from her daze.

Her gaze drifted downward.

Her eyes rested on a pair of simple, pale lips amongst a full but neatly trimmed beard and goatee.

A mischievous smile appeared on her face.

She tightened her grip on his sleeve-

-and stood on her tiptoes.

Tsuare grinned.

 _Would it still tickle?_

 _..._

 _..._

 _XOXO_

* * *

 _Author note: Alright folks, thanks for reading and give me some reviews and feedback!_


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Written by: The Reluctant Overlord

Proofread by: PervySageChuck

 **Battle Royale Day 1**

The sun's rays shone unobstructed on the clearing.

 _How vulnerable…_

The beast's eyes were gleaming as she observed her prey.

She licked her lips with anticipation.

It would be a feast tonight.

She watched her quarry patiently and waited for an opportunity to pounce.

Her stomach growled.

 _Ah… Hungry…_

It had been months since she had tasted that delicious morsel.

 _Hungry_ …

For years, the beast was caged and beaten mercilessly.

For years, she had been starved and deprived.

For years, her captors had denied her.

But she was now free-

-and her appetite knew no boundaries.

However, the beast was a mere cub. She was inexperienced.

In the past, if circumstances were different, she would have been taught the art of hunting by her tribe. It was tradition that they moved in groups until they were strong enough to hunt on their own.

Nevertheless, it was not uncommon for one of them to break off from the pack. Competition was fierce after all.

Their survival and the continuation of their lineage depended on it.

The beast stared breathlessly at her prey.

She had tasted its flesh once before. It was shortly after she had regained her freedom. She had been starving for so long.

Her stomach began to ache in pain as it recalled the years of captivity.

She was so weak then.

But now she was strong.

Strong enough to hunt on her own, and take what had been unfairly denied to her all these years.

As a proud member of her species, it should have been her right. She was of age.

It should have been her right!

 _Those humans!_

Anger began to boil inside her.

As the beast seethed in rage, her eyes never left her quarry.

There would be no one who would deny her of her prey this time.

The beast began to reminisce.

Once again, she licked her lips in anticipation.

She remembered the first time she tasted it.

It was wonderful.

It was unforgettable.

Her first hunt-

-the day she drew first blood.

The beast looked up from her hiding spot.

Her prey was distracted. It was not paying attention. It was unfocused.

 _A fatal mistake._

She arched her body, and contorted her maw.

 _Now!_

She closed her eyes.

Her body tensed.

All her other senses immediately honed themselves. She became acutely aware of her surroundings, and she became hypersensitive.

Her sense of smell.

Her sense of taste.

Her sense of hearing.

Her sense of touch.

Everything was heightened.

A swift as an eagle and as fleeting as the wind, the beast struck.

It was flawless.

Immediately, Tsuare withdrew.

The taste of Sebas was still lingering in her lips and tongue.

She relished it.

Tsuare resisted touching her lips, and instead inhaled deeply so his scent pervaded her body.

It was akin to a connoisseur savouring an expensive, cask-aged matured wine.

Tsuare gulped.

She took a deep breath the second time to calm her racing heart.

Every fiber of her being screamed for more.

Tsuare forcibly suppressed her animalistic instinct.

She took several deeper breaths.

For now, she would have to be content.

Certainly, she hungered for more, but it could wait. At the moment, her hunger was sated. After all, she knew that rushing things was the worst mistake a hunter like her could do. She knew that her prey, men, would sometimes flee if women became too clingy.

From time to time, like today, she would have to aggressively mark her quarry to scare off other hunters.

After that, she would be patient. She would bide her time.

She had searched for so long, and she would not tolerate any mistakes. She would not let this prized catch get away.

 _Another opportunity would come again…_

…..

Without missing a step, Sebas continued walking. His face remained stoic and expressionless. He was the head butler of Nazarick, and leader of the Pleiades combat maids.

Next to him was a small blond girl in a yellow floral sun dress who was determined to avoid his gaze. She was fidgeting, and seemed to be radiating with an afterglow of sorts.

Sebas steadily marched forward.

Esmerelda, the noble-hating adventurer who hailed from the Baharuth Empire and whom chased both Sebas and Solution from the restaurant to warn them about a bandit ambush let out a startled gasp.

Sebas ignored the shocked expression on Esmerelda's face.

To any normal observer, they would have not noticed a change in the gentleman butler's appearance.

However, an astute observer would have picked up on a few subtle discrepancies in the mannerisms of the typically disciplined butler.

His thick eyebrows, which were usually furrowed, were raised by a millimetre.

His piercing grey eyes, which were usually focused and burning, had a hint of confusion.

The angle of his jaw was off by several degrees.

His mouth, which was usually in a perpetual mild scowl, was now in a neutral position.

His lips, which were usually sealed, were now marginally parted.

His breathing was slightly heavier, and his inspirations lasted a millisecond longer than usual.

Even his stride, which was usually uniformly spaced out, had quickened.

And so the trio continued onwards.

A grey-haired man wearing a traditional black and white butler uniform, a small blond girl who was shyly clinging to his arm, and a young but rugged looking female adventurer with a dejected look on her face.

Soon, they approached the Shining Golden Pavillion Inn, where Sebas and his Master were staying.

A large congregation of people seemed to be gathered outside. They were yelling, shouting, and pushing. There was a mixture of adventurers and nobles dressed in rich and exquisite clothing. Sebas focused his hearing. Sebas caught snippets of what sounded like a bidding war.

"50 gold!"

"100 gold!"

"200 gold!"

There was also a stout-bodied man whose hair was cut so short that one could see his scalp handing out what looked like small white ticket stubs.

Sebas motioned for Tsuare and Esmeralda to come closer.

"I think this is where we should part."

Tsuare involuntarily let out a huge sigh of relief. Having to go through that large crowd would have instantly sent her spiralling down a very traumatic sinkhole.

Esmeralda looked at Tsuare then back at the crowd and nodded in understanding.

"Come Tsuare! Show me where you live!"

The rugged female adventurer grabbed Tsuare with a force that was perhaps more than necessary and pulled her away from Sebas.

 _Ahhhhhhh…_

As the lively duo left his view, Sebas continued forward.

He walked right past the Shining Golden Pavillion and the surrounding commotion.

Sebas continued walking down the street, occasionally pausing to confirm his findings.

After all, he was currently being followed.

 _Just one it seems…_

He noticed it right before they entered the clothing boutique where they bought Tsuare's floral sun-dress. The person did not follow them into the store, but he immediately trailed them after they left.

Based on the figure's movements, he or she was not an experienced agent. The moves were amateurish at best.

Regardless, someone had been triggering Sebas's internal radar for some time now.

 _Who was it?_

Sebas continued to walk forward while pondering this.

It was unfortunate that he was not graced with the detection skills that his fellow floor Guardians Mare and Aura had. In terms of unmasking hidden traps and invisible enemies, he was only ranked slightly above Shalltear.

Sebas debated if he should ask the Shadow Demons around him to confirm the identity of the stalker, but realized that it would have been too conspicuous. He needed to distance himself from Nazarick and the Sorcerer King, and consorting with demons would have blown his cover.

No, he would just have to ask them later.

One saving grace was that the stalker seemed to be only interested in him, and not Tsuare and Esmeralda.

Sebas felt the presence diminish.

 _Huh? Have they given up?_

He was careful not to make unnecessary evasive maneuvers. It seemed like the person had lost interest in him as a target.

Sebas carefully doubled back to the Shining Golden Pavillion.

After all, he would have to meet with Blue Rose soon. They had left a message with the innkeeper. Sebas had an inkling of what they wanted to discuss.

He tightened the white gloves on his hand.

The 'Genji Gloves'. An enchanted item capable of repelling the undead. It was something that his Majesty, Ainz Ooal Gown, had requested that Sebas announce during the tournament to attract the attention of anyone who might harbour ill will towards the Sorcerer King.

It was no surprise that agents from the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Baharuth Empire would despise Ainz Ooal Gown. However, based on the recent intelligence gathering by Demiurge and Albedo, it was unlikely that the culprit responsible for the brainwashing of Shalltear was from these two human kingdoms.

His mission was simple. To masquerade as an agent from an unknown third party and make contact with anyone who wanted to overthrow the Sorcerer King. Having a make-believe anti-undead item such as the Genji Gloves was merely to make Sebas seem more attractive as a potential ally.

 _However-_

It seems that the person who was following him had truly abandoned the trail.

...

 _Sigh-._

Ainz started at the dried piece of parchment that the Elder Lich handed over to him.

"How much did it cost us?"

"5000 gold pieces."

 _Hm…_

In accordance with the rules of the tournament, the Sorcerous Kingdom was supposed to award each contestant who made it onto the top 50 with 100 gold pieces each.

However, only 48 contestants would be able to qualify for the battle royale. Ainz was unsure of why he had come up with that particular number. It would have made more sense to only award gold to the top 48 participants. But then again, the idea of a tournament was rather spontaneous.

 _Well, too late to fix it now…_

Considering the immense treasury of Nazarick, 5000 gold was a meager sum. However, Ainz was reluctant to spend significant amounts of Nazarick's personal stash, especially as the cost of resurrecting NPCs numbered up to 500 million gold pieces. Furthermore, he felt guilty about spending the gold that his fellow guild mates worked so hard farming.

As such, most of the expenditures for E-Rantel were sourced from local taxes and renting out the undead.

However, he had promised the residents that he would personally fund the tournament. The reassurance that their taxes would not rise set him apart from the previous ruling nobles who would often abuse the city budget to fund their own personal projects.

Ainz also hated bosses and CEOs who would use company money for their personal use.

"Compensate them accordingly from Nazarick's treasury."

"Yes, Ainz-sama."

The elder lich bowed.

Ainz reflected on the last few days of the elimination tournament. While it was educational to assess and measure the general strength of the population, he was rather disappointed with the outcome. Many contestants were unable to injure the Death Knight, let alone defeat it.

It was fortunate that there were no fatalities in the elimination stage of the tournament. The lowest level resurrection spell was 'Raise Dead'. It was a 5th tier spell that set the intended recipient several levels back upon resurrection. For individuals with low experience points and levels, it would be impossible to bring them back to life.

Ainz was in possession of the resurrection wands which required a lower blood price, but they were limited in supply and he was hesitant to use any of them on lowly human adventurers.

Compared to the NPCs of Nazarick, his new human adventurer team would be mere infants in comparison.

 _It's no surprise that human territories were being encroached by the beastmen and demi-humans in the Draconic and Holy Kingdom._

Still, there was light at the end of the tunnel.

 _Humans are capable of progress._

Repeated experiments and battle had shown that Ainz could no longer progress in terms of levelling in the traditional Yggdrasil sense. He was still uncertain with regards to the potential of the NPCs in Nazarick.

The experiment with the Death Knight and Hamsuke was still ongoing.

Something gnawed in the back of his mind.

 _Did I forget about something?_

Ainz noticed the Elder Lich had not left the room. He motioned for the creature to speak.

"How would you like to sort the list in the upcoming battle royale?"

"Eh-"

 _Damn! I didn't think that far_ _ahead_ _!_

 _Now… What should I do?_

Ainz stared at the list of the contestants who had managed to qualify for the top 48 spots in the tournament.

 _How should I sort them out?_

In the corner of his lidless eyes, Ainz saw the Elder Lich hovering patiently for his answer.

 _Should I purposefully arrange them so that Sebas would win and I don't have to pay out the grand prize?_

 _No, that would be unfair._

 _Should I write their names on small pieces of paper and get them to draw from a box?_

 _Ahh…_

Ainz would have liked some time to think about it, but he knew that not answering immediately would be a sign of weakness and may lead to the assumption that he did not have a plan for the tournament.

 _Ahh…_

Finally, an idea struck.

He would rely on a tried and true, classic method for sorting out a name list.

Alphabetical order.

 _That's right! No one can blame me if I use this._

With a single bony finger, he scratched a line below every 12th contestant.

Xxx

Xxx

Brain

Baziwood

Climb

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Evileye

Esmerelda

Xxx

Xxx

Gagaran

Gaius

Go Gin

Goblin #1

Xxx

Xxx

Lakyus

Xxx

Masked Blond

Xxx

Nimble

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Sebas Tian

Xxx

Shasryu Shasha

Shining Metal Knight

Xxx

Tia

Tina

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Xxx

Zaryusu Shasha

….

...

No one can accuse me of rigging the tournament now, thought Ainz, while smiling.

...

...

Climb recalled the palpable atmosphere of the first day of the battle royale part of the tournament-the 12 man showdowns.

Although one would expect the number of spectators to decrease significantly as the contestants who failed to qualify return home to their farms and villages, the Sorcerer King had made sure that accommodation in the city was cheap and priced within reach.

 _That was good news for me as well._

Although Climb was provided a generous stipend for his expenses by the Princess, he was reluctant to spend her money. After all, as a mere third child, she did not have access to the vast wealth that her brothers, Prince Zanac and the late Prince Barbro had.

In addition, the Sorcerer King had ordered his minions to place noticeboards listing job opportunities to entice these people to stay.

Climb's face soured.

 _Hm-_

 _People who were brave enough to face_ _uncertain_ _t_ _y_ _and the horde of undead to make the long journey to E-Rantel were worth keeping._

 _But they should stay in the Re-Estize Kingdom!_

Climb made a mental note to remind himself to petition the new Crown Prince to enact policies that rewarded exceptional and talented commoners to rise in the social hierarchy. After all, this worked very well for the Blood Emperor in the Baharuth Empire.

Climb recalled the humidity and heat from the densely packed stadium. It reeked of sweat. The only scent that overpowered it was the strange enthusiasm that everyone seemed to have.

People crammed themselves inside the massive granite arena. The intricate and decorative tile floors were hidden by the large amount of people standing inside.

Chills ran up his spine.

Similar to the opening day of the tournament, everyone's attention was focused on the single figure in the center with twin points of crimson light that burned brightly within the empty orbits of a bleached skull.

He saw the skeletal jaws open. A booming but charismatic voice rang out.

"Welcome, everyone, to my tournament of champions!"

"I am pleased with what I have seen so far in the preliminary stages."

"The rules for the battle royale are simple."

"If you incapacitate an opponent, he or she is out."

"If your opponent is thrown outside of the arena, he or she is out."

"If your opponent voluntarily surrenders, he or she is out."

"Killing is NOT allowed, but will result in automatic disqualification."

 _Huh- Interesting_

This topic had been burning in his mind for some time. For some time now, Climb had wondered if the purpose of the tournament was to get the strongest warriors of the Kingdom and Baharuth Empire to injure and kill themselves. With that, the Sorcerer King would be able to effectively decrease the military power of each opposing country, making their eventual subjugation easier.

If there was any indication of that intent, both Climb, Brain, and Blue Rose would have immediately pulled out of the tournament. However-

The Sorcerer King continued speaking.

"We will have healers on standby in the case of serious injuries. In the unfortunate case that someone is killed, resurrection magic will be offered free of charge."

 _Free of charge?!_

For a second, Climb forgot about the heat, humidity, and smell of being packed in a stadium full of people while wearing full body armor.

 _That was ludicrous!_

Climb had heard rumors of the intricacies and expenses needed for resurrection magic. After all, Lakyus of Blue Rose was the only person in the Re-Estize Kingdom capable to using that 5th tier magic, and its use was reserved for only members of Blue Rose and people willing to pay exorbitant sums.

 _It was simply insanity._

 _Who was this Ainz Ooal Gown?_

Climb took a minute to look around at the people who were cramped in next to him.

The faces of the crowd and contestants brightened considerably. After all, they did not want their cherished heroes and adventurers killing each other off for sport. The achievements of many on that list were legendary, and amongst the lower ranked adventurers and commoners, they were favorite household stories and topics of conversation.

A roaring applause followed. Climb flinched as the noise rose to ear-splitting cheers so close to his vicinity.

Soon afterwards, the list for the battle royale was announced.

 _Huh… Interesting…_

Climb noticed the peculiar trend.

 _Is it in alphabetical order?_

There was no apparent bias in the ranking order of the list despite the fact that both he and the Blue Rose adventurer team had assumed that the Sorcerer King would attempt to manipulate the list in order to get his top candidate, the Martial Lord Go-Gin, into the finals easily.

 _Although, to be frank, the war-troll was an overwhelmingly powerful opponent regardless in this tournament where magic was not allowed._

 _"And now, let us welcome the first twelve brave contestants! Let us give them a round of applause!"_

Stress and tension seized his body as Climb walked into the arena. In total, twelve contestants strode forward.

The crowd was trembling with excitement.

 _Argh!_

Climb felt a searing sensation on his back as the crowd's eyes burned through him with their stares. He clenched and gritted his teeth. Instinctively, he reached toward his sword as he warily eyed the other 11 contestants.

Within 10 minutes, only three contestants remained.

One was a warrior with short blond hair in a dazzling white armor that gleamed in the sun.

Another was a gruff man with blue hair and a razor sharp, glowing broadsword secured at his waist.

The final one was a tall swordsman with a ponytail, clad in black armor with the sigil of the Baharuth Empire emblazoned on his chest.

Baziwood Peshmel.

A commoner born in a back alley in the Baharuth Empire before the reforms of the Blood Emperor, Jirniv Rune Farlord El Nix, he understood at an early age that he would die if he did not obtain power to survive. Through blood, sweat, and tears, he worked on being a knight and eventually became a distinguished knight in the service of the Empire.

It was a life that Climb could relate to, but the similarities ended there.

Baziwood was excessively informal. He had a blunt and honest personality, and often abandoned formalities in favor of light hearted conversations. He had dimples etched on his face from the constant grinning and smiles. His blond hair was tied in a short ponytail, and he sported a gruff but stylish goatee. He would be the man who would laugh off danger, make a joke and then pat you on the shoulder before charging into the battlefield.

Tall, strong, and popular, his wives and lovers all came from brothels, and all five of them lived under the same roof. Baziwood had very good relationships with women.

With class abilities of a Fighter, Imperial Knight, and a Guardian, he was the strongest of the Four Imperial Knights, the pride of the military of the Baharuth Empire. His position would be equivalent to that of the late Warrior-Captain, Gazef Stronoff. While his strength may not exactly rival Gazef, his loyalty to his liege and ruler was just as strong. He might well be the most loyal man to the Blood Emperor in the Empire.

 _Argh!_

The massive black broadsword came crashing down with lightning speed.

 _[Limit Breaker-Mind!]_

If it was not-

If it was not for the near death experience with Sebas that dramatically unlocked the potential within him, he would have been cleaved in two by that blow.

"Oh!"

A look of surprise appeared on Baziwood's face.

"Very impressive! It seems you are not just a mere boy as I had thought!"

"Bravo!"

Baziwood let out a carefree laugh. It was as if he had forgotten he was in a high stakes tournament in an arena facing two opponents while being observed by an undead overlord capable of killing one hundred thousand people with a single spell.

"You could have killed me!" Climb retorted angrily.

"Ha ha haha-ha. Trust me! That was not my intention, my boy!

Baziwood brushed off Climb's frustrations, and carried on with the conversation as if nothing had happened.

"Why don't you make this easier for me, boy?"

"The Emperor said he would give me a big piece of land if I win—and poor old Baziwood needs more space for his honeys."

He chuckled as he fondly recalled his five wives. Although his manor was large by common standards due to his allowance as a high ranking knight, fitting in five women in one house was still a commendable feat.

"!"

"Whoosh-"

A sound of a blade slicing through the air caught Climb's attention.

Just a fraction of a second earlier, Baziwood had turned his body and jumped back.

"Ah! I thought I was already out of your range!"

Brain Unglaus grinned.

Climb was left dumbstruck and motionless.

He was only able to notice Brain's attack after he heard the sound wave trailing from his blade as he cut through the air. By then, it would have been too late for most people.

 _Even when he was casually talking to me, he was still able to notice Brain's attack?_

 _And what about Brain!_

Climb shot a quick glance at his mentor. He had wild, mangled blue hair covering his boyish looks and he sported a large grin on his face. Just like Baziwood, he did not appear to be taking the fight seriously.

Rage started to build up inside of Climb. He was frustrated at the discrepancies between their abilities. For a long time, he knew that he possessed no latent talent for fighting, but hard work and determination had elevated him to the status of Princess Renner's personal knight.

It was a position that he cherished and was proud of, and one that he would continue to push himself to get better.

Climb lifted his sword and rushed forward.

It was a mistake.

"Claaa-annng!". The sound of forged metal rubbing against each other as Climb's sword was deflected and dragged across the flat edge of Baziwood's enormous broadsword.

"An opening!" shouted Baziwood as he laughed.

Climb barely caught a glimpse of a blond ponytail swinging in the air as a heavy steel toed boot tore into his side as he was thrown several meters away.

While his white armor prevented any direct trauma, the force from the impact that was distributed throughout his armor stunned him, as well as knocking the air out of him.

 _"Hah-"_

 _"Hah-"_

Climb grabbed his side in an attempt to ease and calm the vibrations resounding throughout his armor.

His entire body ached.

 _What a forceful kick!_

 _What sort of knight resorts to kicks during a duel of swords?_

Climb chucked to himself, but stopped as the harsh pain from his ribs shot through his body. It seems he was not the only knight who employed unorthodox methods in a fight. The memory of his fight with Succulent appeared in his mind. Flashbacks always seemed to happen to him at the most inappropriate times.

 _I guess the title of strongest of the Four Imperial Knights was not simply in name only._

 _Still-_

Climb refused to lose to a citizen of the Baharuth Empire. He could accept a loss to Brain. He could accept a loss to Sebas. He could accept a loss to Lakyus. To Gagaran. To Evileye. To Tia or Tina. But he could not accept a loss to a citizen of an enemy nation.

An intense bloodlust drew both Climb's and Baziwood's attention.

Instinctively, they glanced at the source of the overwhelming aura, and saw a lone blue haired warrior in a battle stance with his blade at the ready by his side.

Climb blinked several times. For a split second, it seemed like an invisible dome was surrounding Brain. It was a domain where he was Lord. It was a transient physical manifestation of his [Field] martial art ability. Everything within that area was within his reach instantaneously.

 _It_ _'_ _s_ _time!_

Wordlessly, Climb readied himself and assumed an aggressive battle stance.

The shock from Baziwood's earlier kick had just worn off, and he was able to continue fighting. In his mind, Climb was impressed with Brain's perception and ability to pick up on this. The timing was simply too perfect for coincidence.

In turn, Baziwood adopted a defensive posture. He would have to guard against an attack from both sides.

For a while, nobody moved. Even the rowdy spectators fell silent.

There was no wind blowing across the arena.

Not a whisper was heard.

Everyone held their breath in anticipation.

…

…

 _Now!_

In one fluid motion, Climb turned around.

And ran.

He ran as far as he could.

He ran as if his life depended upon it.

Climb felt the ache in his foot as he forcefully stepped down to propel his body forward.

He felt the ache as he bent forwards despite the rigid body armor to streamline his body.

He felt the ache as his thigh and calf muscles protested against the contractions.

A faint smile appeared on Climb's lips.

Scars on the back are a swordsman's shame…

Baziwood charged forward with his broadsword in hand.

He had already taken several strides before he realized his mistake.

 _Wait!_

 _What am I doing!?_

Baziwood did not mean to attack Climb.

 _No!_

 _No!_

Panic seized him.

He was not a target.

In fact, he had not meant to be on the offensive at all. He had psyched himself up in a defensive posture to guard against Climb's and Brain's attacks.

A lump formed in his throat, constricting it.

 _What am I doing!?_

Baziwood could not stop his momentum.

It was far too late.

Instinctively, he had charged at Climb because he saw an opportunity to attack.

His back was open. It was vulnerable. It was exposed.

In other words, it was bait.

It was a feint to trigger Baziwood's innate warrior habits.

After all, every fighter was trained to take advantage of any opportunity.

For an experienced warrior like Baziwood, it was second nature.

It was a subconscious reflex.

He cursed himself.

But it was far too late.

Even without looking behind, Baziwood knew what was coming for him.

He closed his eyes.

His ears twitched.

By the time he heard the sound of air being sliced apart, it was too late.

A weight had been taken off his shoulders.

…

…

[Wind of the Great Forest]

It was Brain Unglaus' trump card. A combination of [Field] and [God Flash]. It was named after the sound of blood spurting shortly after severing the neck.

…

…

Strands of blood hair fell to the ground.

"Ha—Haha ha-Hahahahaha-Ha"

Baziwood stood still and let out a hearty laugh.

"Hahahaha"

Slivers of his golden hair were scattered across his armor. Some of it rested on a glowing blade that rested at the back of his neck.

"Hahahahahahahahahaha-hahahahaha"

"Marvellous!"

Brain had expertly sliced off Baziwood's ponytail.

Despite the speed and force of his blow, Brain had stopped his blade just short of its intended target.

Baziwood had heard rumors about Brain Unglaus. The sword genius. A man who fought with Gazef Stronoff in the tournament and lost. But-

He shuddered.

It takes immense skill to stop mid-attack like that. One would require complete mastery of the sword.

Baziwood was sure that he was out of reach of his [Field] ability.

Respect welled up within him.

A sword saint indeed.

He raised his hands to surrender.

Brain and Climb had won.

…

…

Sparks of revelation reflected on Climb's eyes.

 _That's right! I won. We won…_

He looked around the strange small room that was lit by the lone magical lamp.

Climb patted his armor. Everything appeared intact.

He reached for his weapon, and felt the cold sheath pressing against his hand. It was a comforting feeling.

 _So where am I now?_


	19. Intermission

Quick reference sheet for people who need a refresher

* * *

 **The story so far:**

After the ceding of E-Rantel to the Sorcerous Kingdom, Ainz had been working hard to re-create a society in the image of Nazarick, where everyone could live together peacefully. He also wanted to instill a sense of loyalty and adventure into his new paradise in an attempt to cultivate the same feelings and dreams that brought the original 41 Supreme beings together in the first place. After all, they did not start as friends, and neither Ainz nor his beloved guild mates knew each other before playing Yggdrasil. They had met because they shared similar goals and grew to be close friends while playing the game. However, at the moment, E-Rantel was a literal ghost town. The board at the adventurer guild was empty, all commerce and trade was brought to a standstill, and even the human residents of the once prosperous city trodden along the barren streets with the soulless stride of a zombie.

When Albedo spoke to Ainz about Renner's plan for the vassalage of the kingdom, he took credit for the idea of hosting a tournament in his stride and began to make preparations. He promised an obscene amount of gold to the victors, which also includes a position of authority within the newly formed Sorcerous Kingdom. Behind the scenes, Princess Renner was planning on marrying the victor in a political union in order to solidify the relationship between the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Sorcerous Kingdom. Whether she would actually follow through with this, or if it was merely a ruse to convince her brother, the new Crown Prince, to relax his grip on border crossings, remains to be seen.

The purpose of the tournament was threefold. It would encourage migration to the desolate city to stimulate the economy, help attract potential recruits for Ainz' newly established state-sponsored adventurer guild, and allow Ainz to observe and study the mysterious skill known as [Martial Arts] and assess its threat level.

Amidst preparations for the tournament, Mare had travelled to the domain of Marquis Raevan to request assistance from a well-known architect to construct both the stadium and the upcoming underground dungeon for new adventurers but had inadvertently foiled a plan by the Marquis to collude with the Slane Theocracy in exchange for safe haven for his cherished son and his family.

There was a brief scuffle which resulted in the accidental death of the Marquis's son, a young innocent boy who was infatuated with Mare's feminine good looks. Unfortunately, during the fight, Bukubukuchagama's watch, which Mare was wearing on his wrist, was accidentally damaged by one of the Slane Theocracy agents, leading to a dramatic reaction by the typically quiet and timid dark elf. In the aftermath, two dead agents were lying on the ground without a single bodily injury.

Soon afterwards, the Marquis, whose plan was exposed, pledged his fealty to the Sorcerer King in exchange for the resurrection of his son. However, in a twist of fate, it turns out that the Marquis' son was actually being poisoned by Princess Renner with tainted sweets and a 'protective' ring which actually made the wearer impervious to both low level healing and harmful magic. The reason for this was still unclear, but it was assumed the purpose was to break the Marquis' spirit as when Albedo informed the princess that Marquis Raeven had sworn loyalty to Nazarick, she was not surprised at news of his betrayal, but rather at how quickly Ainz had managed to deal with the situation without bloodshed.

However, a secondary reason for this action was hinted at upon the death of the Marquis' child, a seal in the mysterious sanguine box that was gifted to the Princess was removed. Upon seeing this, whether it was just the flickering of light, or simply the imagination of the shadow demons that were sent to observe and guard Renner, one could have sworn that fangs were visible in her smile.

Meanwhile, Albedo had managed to intercept and get her hands on a certain forbidden, salacious red book as it was being returned by a homunculi maid. It was a book placed in the library of the Great Tomb of Nazarick by Peroroncino as a prank to frame his older sister, Bukubukuchagama, and was discovered accidentally by Ainz and Mare as they searched for a book to help them design the underground training dungeon.

Ripples were sent across the human kingdoms as news of the Martial Arts Tournament spread far and wide. Caravans and wagons full of eager adventurers braved the dangers and uncertainty to make their journey to the undead filled city, lured in by the promise of fame and fortune, as well as a better life. Among the people who made it were the Blue Rose adventurer party, Climb, Brain Unglaus, two of the Four Imperial Knights of the Empire, and Sebas and his mistress.

The tournament was officially christened with an awe-inspiring speech by Ainz which drew the respect and admiration of the crowd. His heartfelt speech and natural charisma helped convey his sincerity and resolution to the anxious citizens of E-Rantel, who were stricken by hesitation and mistrust over his undead persona.

Benefits to the city was already evident before the Martial Arts contest even started. A notable influx of merchants, traders, and adventurers populated the once empty streets, and the economy was stimulated. Multiple policies including cheap housing, affordable rent, an abundance of fairly paying work, and free security and cheap manual labor courtesy of the undead minions of Nazarick were enacted in an effort to retain these brave and courageous souls to stay in the city as permanent residents.

The abolishment of the caste system allowed many people to rise in the societal hierarchy by merit and talent alone rather than blood ties. Even former prisoners were pardoned and given an equal opportunity to contribute to the city. A single honest and heart-to-heart speech by the Sorcerer King in the center of the city was enough to promote loyalty and inspire the thousands of citizens to seize this rare opportunity and rebuild their lives. For many, the sun was bright for the first time in many many months. There was even favorable media coverage of the city courtesy of a Re-Estize Kingdom journalist. Just don't bring up elder liches in maid costumes!

The citizens of E-Rantel, along with the aid of golems, labored like worker ants and renovated the city and built the stadium in record time. Unfortunately, the first day of the tournament was not without hiccups. With Shalltear being Shalltear, Aura being Aura, and Albedo being Albedo, there was quite a commotion with the judging process. Luckily, after many insults from a lusty succubus, a crying flat chested vampire, and a happy looking dark elf with a fistful of tissues, the hero exam portion of the tournament ended and the final 48 contestants were announced.

Of course, there were several mysterious participants whose identity was not yet revealed. In particular, there was a grey but well-dressed butler who wielded a pair of powerful anti-undead gloves known as the 'Genji Gloves', his arrogant but drop dead gorgeous mistress who insisted on wearing a mask to block the stench of failure from the common folk, and a lone stereotypical knight from unknown lands clad in shining platinum armor.

Love was in the air on the eve of the official start of the battle royale portion of the Martial Arts tournament. Sebas, being the gentleman that he was, brought Tsuare out shopping for dresses. It would have been the perfect date if he had not also brought Esmerelda, a warrior who he met on his way to E-Rantel, along to counsel him in manners of woman clothing.

To mark her territory, Tsuare transformed into a beast and stole yet another kiss from the vulnerable butler, who was distracted as he was reminiscing about his creator.

Meanwhile, at the same time, poor Albedo had a steamy date with a body pillow.

Or should the body pillow have been pitied instead?

The next chapter opened with Climb finding himself in a child's bedroom. Memories fuzzy, he struggled to deduce where he was. The only hints he had was that he was still wearing his armor, and flashbacks of what had happened on the first day of the battle royale. Mental imagery of scissors, running, babies, children, and a pair of bright shining eyes continued to assault him, giving him terrible headaches. He remembered his battle with Baziwood, but that was it.

Unfortunately, before he could continue to recollect his lost memories, a knock on the door interrupted his train of thought. It ended with a "-woof".

….

* * *

ORIGINAL CHARACTER BIOGRAPHIES

 **Gaius Badenhorst** \- one of eight children born to an agricultural family, Gaius had the physique of a bear with a barrel chest, strong arms, and thick thighs and calves from years of plowing the fields. He learnt about the [Martial Arts] when a hunched back, elderly granny passed by his village who recognized his latent talent as a warrior. He lived in the domain of Marquis Raevan, and his mother passed away from years of being overworked as most of the men in the village had been forcibly conscripted into the army in the constant wars against the Baharuth Empire. After defeating a powerful beast known as a Kagouti with a well-placed thrust through its open maw and into its brain, and making a vest out of its hide, he almost missed his calling when he could not read the notice board announcing the upcoming Martial Arts tournament in E-Rantel. Fortunately, he made it and even managed to get himself a spot amongst the top 48 contestants after an impressive display against the Death Knight! This was despite being called a 'maggot' by a beautiful succubus.

 **Craig Elliot-** His life was shattered when a greedy noble arrived at his village and demanded an unreasonable percentage of the harvest for the year. When his wife stood up to the noble as he whipped the elderly village chief, she was promptly struck down with a whip. It did not end there. Upon seeing his beautiful wife, the lewd noble commanded his minions to capture her and take her back to his mansion. Craig attempted to plead and beg, but negotiations quickly broke down, and during the violent confrontation, his wife died protecting him from a fatal strike. Furious, Craig tried to kill the noble but was easily overpowered and sentenced to rot in the prison at E-Rantel, where they dropped him off. When the Sorcerer King invaded, he was freed and was squatting in one of the abandoned houses until he heard the heart-felt speech by the Lord of Nazarick. Since then, Craig casted off his heavy manacles and was living a proper life working in construction and renovations. He also enjoys drinking, and recently made a friend of a visiting journalist to the city.

 **Eorlund the Journalist** \- A scribe hired by the Re-Estize Kingdom Chronicles to document the situation and status of the city of E-Rantel under the rule of the Sorcerous Kingdom. He was the equivalent of the modern day journalist. A middle aged man with a scrawny beard and a tall and lanky frame, he had a permanent squint from years of being bent over and writing in low light conditions. Always seen clutching his trusty notebook, he was impressed by the safety and normality of the city. He was on friendly terms with Craig Elliot who showed him around E-Rantel. The only shameful mark of Eorlund's trip was the unfortunate 'accident' he had when he was greeted and served by an elder lich wearing a maid uniform at the café.

 **Esmeralda** \- A warrior who rushed to warn Sebas and Solution of the potential ambush by certain unscrupulous individuals who were offended by Solution's haughty attitude and lured in by her wealth. She grew up in the slums of the Baharuth Empire before the revolutionary reforms by the Blood Emperor Jircniv. She harbored a deep seated hatred against all nobles as her beloved sister committed suicide after being betrayed by her fiancée, who gave in to peer pressure and broke off their engagement and instead offered to make her a mistress instead. When Esmeralda reached Sebas' carriage, she was greeted by an obese Solution, but this was quickly swept under the rug. She agreed to accompany the charming Sebas to E-Rantel and participate in the tournament, and even followed him on his shopping trip/date with Tsuare, much to both girls' frustrations. She was also a capable warrior who wielded twin stilettos and even made it into the top 48 in the tournament.

 **Jakarn & Olga-** Two Slane Theocracy agents who were sent to observe the unfolding events at E-Rantel, but were eventually sent to the territory of Marquis Raeven, where they were frightened to death by Mare's outburst. Currently deceased.


	20. Battle Royale Day 2

Gaius pointed his spear at his opponent. The tip was reinforced with orichalcum for maximum penetration. He gritted his teeth to sooth the trembling he felt in his hands. Flashbacks of the siblings he left behind in the Kingdom and the harsh life of farming flooded his mind, giving him strength. Every skill and technique taught to him by that elderly granny who passed him on her visit to his village and proceeded to beat him mercilessly in a contest of strength would have to be utilized today.

Beside him, a hulking warrior in full maroon plate armor raised her massive warpick and flexed her muscles. The self-proclaimed 'Lovely Warrior Full of Mystery' who picked fresh cherries as a hobby cracked her neck as she prepared to charge.

A goblin sneered as he twirled a pair of daggers in his hands. It wore a small leather vest that favored maneuverability and evasion over defense. Gold earrings hung from its ears, and a row of sharp teeth were visible.

Meanwhile, a small child wearing an enigmatic white mask frowned and cursed as she curled her fists. Primarily a magic caster, she was by far the strongest contestant in terms of overall combat ability. However, the rules of the match disallowing all magic left her at a significant disadvantage. Still, her natural talents as a Vampire Princess granted her exceptional speed and agility. Evileye studied her opponent to look for any weaknesses. Her strike would be fast and true.

A young woman with brilliant blonde hair, green eyes, and pink lips held a beautiful black sword with an inlaid black sapphire embedded into the pommel. Whether it was a trick or some enchantment, the sword seemed to swallow all the light surrounding it. It was darker than black. It was a blade of pure night.

The war troll sniffed the air. He could smell the fear. With a large metal club in his hands, he scanned the field to look for his first target. Go Gin stood over 2 meters tall. His body was protected by armor several inches thick. No human would have been able to bear its weight, not even the legendary Gagaran.

Esmerelda used the sleeve of her arm to wipe her brow as sweat trickled down. A pair of glowing stilettos were held tightly in her hands. Her short dark hair and blue eyes which were usually warm with compassion were now white with fear. Why was she in the same arena as these monsters?

Her line of thought was not hers alone. Alongside her, five other contestants thought the same thing. Men and women from both the Baharuth Empire and the Re-Estize Kingdom who made their way to this damned city in pursuit of fortune, glory, and fame. Ordinary people who braved the dangers to become adventurers. Yet, right now, it took all the courage they could muster not to wet themselves and flee.

Together, all of them made up the twelve contestants of day 2 of the battle royale in the Martial Arts Tournament.

There would only be two winners in this all out fight.

…

…

Go Gin stomped on the ground, sending faint tremors across the arena. Clad in a set of heavy golden plate armor, he was a living tank. Possessing innate regeneration skills and superior physical strength, he was the favorite for winning the entire tournament.

Intelligent, cunning, and powerful, he was the Champion of the Sorcerer King.

His golden plate armor was enchanted to withstand even the strongest blows, and it had anti-magic properties as well.

A massive metal club was in his right hand. One hit would crush a fully grown man into pulp, even in full armor.

In addition, the war troll also wore several magical rings and an amulet that further enhanced his physical strength.

The former Martial Lord of the Empire, his natural strength and combat prowess was so great that it was rumored that even if the fabled Four Imperial Knights of the Empire fought him at the same time, they would still have no chance of winning.

The war troll let out a ferocious bellow that shook the arena, sending a bolt down the spines of everyone present, regardless of the strength of their mental fortitude. Its thick neck and large body jiggled as it roared. Flecks of spit and mucus flew from its mouth as it readied itself for a challenge. The 8th Generation Martial Lord of the Empire had only lost once before, and he would not do so again.

Right now, he was the Champion of Ainz Ooal Gown, and he did not want to disappoint his King.

…

…

Truly, a frightening beast! That's my Go Gin for you!

From a balcony in the stands, a stout man with his hair cut so short that you could see his scalp was laughing maniacally as a large bag of paper slips stood at his feet. His gaze was fixated on the war troll. There was a hint of glint of pride in his eyes as he saw the situation unfold in the arena.

Besides him, a man with fiery red hair was grinning from ear to ear. He had a gruff, unshaven beard and innumerable freckles marked his skin. His arms were slim but muscular, and his hands were calloused from manual labor. Faint scars on his wrist suggested that he was once imprisoned and chained with manacles.

Unlike Osk, the man with the red hair was more concerned about the sack by the stout man's feet.

To him, it might as well have been filled to the brim with platinum coins.

Craig had spent the entire day yesterday standing outside the Shining Golden Pavillion attracting customers and taking bets for Osk.

Osk, the stout man with short hair, was the former master of the Martial Lord, Go Gin, and owner of the highly successful coliseum in the Baharuth Empire. He was also extremely business savvy and ran the colosseum gambling house. His fortune and riches were so great that it rivalled even the upper class nobles in the Empire.

And he had insider information, seeing as he had personally trained Go Gin in the past.

Osk stared fondly at the thick, golden plate armor that the former Martial Lord was wearing.

I spent 1/5th of my fortune on that gift.

Even so, Osk was a man who did his research properly.

He had sent Craig to scout out the rest of the contestants. In particular, he wanted as much information as possible about Blue Rose, Climb, Brain Unglaus, and Sebas. As a resident from the Baharuth Empire, he knew little about the warriors of the Re-Estize Kingdom. The reputation and renown of the Blue Rose party was well known in the Empire, but they were only stories told by travelers and fellow adventurers.

Brain Unglaus and Climb were strong, but fortunately, he was able to witness their abilities firsthand during the first day of the battle royale and Osk had concluded that they would not be able to hinder the former Martial Lord.

Sebas was a mysterious butler who possessed powerful anti-undead items. His mistress was a typical snobby noble, although her origins and bloodline was still hidden from Osk. Their backgrounds proved remarkably challenging to investigate. Even though Osk was living in the same hotel, he rarely saw them outside their room. They would spend all day and night inside, and yet not a single noise would be heard.

Osk had once tried to knock on the door to speak to them but no answer came, even though he was sure he saw them enter merely ten minutes ago.

Strangely, Craig was successful in trailing Sebas as he went on a rare excursion into town. According to reports, he was accompanied by two ladies. One of them was Esmeralda, who was currently participating in the fight below. The other was a short blonde female in a yellow sundress who radiated a warm charm.

Unfortunately, at the same time, Osk was flooded with customers who wanted to place last minute bets on today's matchup, and he had to call off Craig's scouting mission when he saw the red haired man pass him by near the Shinning Golden Pavillion.

…

"Don't worry. You will get your share."

Osk spied a greedy gleam in his partner's eyes, and reassured him that he would get his fair cut.

He gently kicked the bag on the ground and felt the soft rustle of paper against his feet.

Each piece of paper listed the name of the betting party and the odds and payout quoted. Naturally, Osk was not foolish enough to keep the actual gold on his person. At the moment, it was being guarded by an elite team of mercenaries at the Shining Golden Pavillion.

"How much do we have?" Craig asked.

"Hm-"

Osk pondered this for a moment. The total amount of gold in his possession would be close to fifty thousand, but the estimated profits today would only amount to about five thousand gold pieces if Go Gin won. In other words, they stood to make about five percent based on the odds.

Typically, Osk would only make one to two percent, but as his dealings were often in the tens of thousands, it was a very lucrative business, and the reason why he was able to recruit so many warriors as his gladiators in the colosseum at the Empire.

Understanding what Craig meant to ask, Osk replied.

"Your share will be about 200 gold."

A beaming smile appeared on the red haired man's face.

200 gold.

It was enough for a conservative peasant to live on for 5 years or more. With his current lifestyle and drinking habits, Craig would still be able to live comfortably for at least a year.

Not bad for a few days' work…

Osk concentrated his attention to the fight. In truth, he was not very interested in the profits. Even though he suffered considerable losses when Go Gin left his service to become the Sorcerer King's champion, he was still a very wealthy man. The gambling ring was merely a way to make some spare cash.

The real reason he came to E-Rantel was to see how two of his favorite warriors would fare in a battle against each other.

Osk gazed fondly at Gagaran.

Simply wonderful!

He tried to imagine how she looked underneath her red full plate mail armor, Gaze Bane.

Her rippling muscles.

Her strong jawline.

Her powerful biceps.

Her firm breasts.

Her rock hard abs.

Osk felt something harden.

Embarrassed, he shook his head and refocused his attention to the match.

…

...

Lakyus, Gagaran, and Evileye stood back to back and observed the rest of the contestants.

Although this was supposed to be an all-out battle royale, there were no rules against teaming up.

In the first corner, the war troll stood alone.

In the second corner, the three members of Blue Rose gathered.

In the third corner was Gaius and a goblin.

In the final corner, Esmeralda was in a group with 5 other human warriors.

What a pitiful sight-

Gagaran shot Esmeralda and her group a disapproving look.

Their legs were visibly trembling, and the clatter of teeth could be heard.

Although, I can't really blame them…

She looked around the arena.

There was a muscular man who was built like a bear with a barrel chest, broad shoulders, and a large waist with strong, well developed thighs and calves who was pointing his spear towards the war troll. He had a well sculpted physique born from years of manual labor.

For some reason, Gagaran felt an intense urge to flex her muscles in return.

However, even the man's spear was quivering.

Gaius was afraid.

Tsk…

Gagaran stared at the heavily armored war troll.

What a fearsome opponent-

The troll was as strong as the Four Imperial Knights of the Empire combined, had amazing regenerative properties, and had protective armor several inches thick which made it impervious to most conventional weapons.

Furthermore, both Evileye and Lakyus was at a disadvantage due to the magic ban.

Tsk…

She cursed underneath her helm.

There was only one way they could win.

Gagaran scanned the arena and her eyes met with the other contestants.

It seems that everyone was thinking the same thing.

Gagaran nodded in agreement.

We have to work together.

Immediately, everyone rearranged themselves.

After several minutes, they surrounded the war troll in a circle.

Weapons at the ready, they waited for an opportunity to attack.

Go Gin had expected this.

After all, it was the logical course of action. He represented the greatest threat, and had to be dealt with. Only by working together would they be able to achieve this lofty goal.

The war troll smiled.

He said a silent prayer of gratitude to his King.

For years, when he was a gladiator in the Baharuth Empire, he achieved victory after victory without much effort. He had never tried to understand his challenger's abilities and equipment, especially after he had learnt to use [Martial Arts]. When the Sorcerer King demonstrated the zenith of his might, Go Gin was humbled and grateful to have been bested by such a foe.

Once again, he had been granted the luxury of a challenging fight.

In one swift motion, Go Gin lifted his gigantic metal club and smashed it onto the ground.

A loud 'crack' resounded through the air.

Dust particles temporarily obscured the vision of the crowd.

When the smoke cleared, there was a small crater on the ground where the tiles were smashed.

It was an impressive display of power.

The remaining contestants tensed up involuntarily as their gaze was inadvertently drawn to the crushed pavement. Only one thought ran through their minds.

We have to avoid being hit at all costs!

A flicker of movement attracted their attention.

Once again, Go Gin lifted his massive club and smashed it onto the ground.

'Crraaaack'

'Brghshhhh'

'Baaaaang'

Why would he waste his ener-?

Realization dawned on Gagaran.

Grudgingly, she was filled with respect for her opponent.

By crushing the tiles behind him, the war troll created uneven ground and sharp debris that would both hinder a charging opponent, and create noise that would alert him to their approach.

As if on cue, Go Gin turned around with his back towards to the destroyed area. With this, he had built a makeshift warning system that would alert him when opponents tried to attack his blind spot.

This was not a simple troll…

We must not underestimate this opponent…

…

Five seconds passed.

…

Ten seconds passed.

…

Thirty seconds passed.

…

A minute passed.

…

Three minutes passed.

…

Five minutes passed.

…

It might as well have been five hours.

It felt like an eternity.

Nobody moved.

Eyes darted back and forth as they sized each other up.

Everyone was hesitant to be the first to attack.

Each of them waited for an opening that none of them gave.

The crowd, which had remained silent with anticipation since the dramatic display of brawn by the war troll, was growing impatient.

People began to shift awkwardly.

They eyed each other uneasily.

The prolonged tension was uncomfortable.

Gagaran cursed.

This is pathetic.

I'm an adamantite adventurer!

She gripped her war pick.

Sensing her subtle movements, Lakyus and Evileye prepared themselves as well.

However, what happened next surprised everyone.

It would later be known as the highlight of the match, and the time when all the tension climaxed.

…

"Yaaarggghhh!"

A warrior-like screech came from one of the twelve contestants in the arena.

The heads of the crowd snapped in the direction of the yell.

Who was this brave warrior-? Everyone wondered.

A rugged, hairy, muscular arm reached forward and clasped its left chest.

With another courageous yell, it ripped apart the leather armor, revealing a masculine and naked chest.

The words engraved on it was clear for all to see.

"Enri 3"

Meanwhile, in the dense crowd, a commotion began to form.

A young village girl was blushing. Her face was red as a ripe summer tomato. Besides her, a gaggle of goblins was roaring and cheering wildly. Around them, the people who initially gave the strange group a wide berth began to stare both in curiosity and amusement.

"FOR GENERAL ENRI!"

The goblin charged forward.

It was a reckless move.

He knew it deep within him.

His warrior instincts screamed for him to run away. Every fiber in his being actively resisted his movements. His arms and legs felt like they were chained in cast iron.

The goblin touched his tattoo as he ran ahead, and a remarkable change came over him.

He felt vigor infuse into his veins.

His blood was red and hot.

His heart was pounding.

His pupils dilated.

The tattoo on his left chest was burning.

He felt the fear wash away.

The weight in his arms and legs melted away.

To the crowd, it seemed like the goblin was moving faster and faster.

He had transformed.

It was miraculous.

The goblin was now a fearsome lion charging at its prey.

Some were convinced that they could hear a savage roar in the distance.

What sorcery is this!?

Words of incredulity escaped from their lips.

What is happening!?

Go Gin felt his little finger twitch.

Impossible!

In the blink of an eye, the Goblin had managed to transverse the distance between them.

Somehow, he had managed to navigate through the shrapnel and razor sharp fragments on the ground, and was now face to face with the war troll.

…

…

Back in the Great Tomb of Nazarick, his black and red robes seemed to shimmer and twist despite the fact that there was no wind in the room. A dark foreboding aura surrounded him like living flames. His pale, skeletal hands tightly clenched the handles of the chair as Ainz stared at the screen. Green flames erupted to quell his shock and surprise.

You've got to be kidding me!

Are you serious?!

…

…

Go Gin swung his enormous club at the Goblin.

There was a loud 'whoooshh' as the air was parted by the momentum of his swing.

-and the goblin disappeared from where he stood.

"Ahhhh! "

The crowd let out an involuntary gasp.

Everyone was on the edge of their seats.

"Where is he?!"

Frantically, they looked around.

The blushing, young village girl screamed.

"There!"

Everyone focused their attention back to the center of the battlefield.

Hanging like an expert climber, the goblin was clinging to the arm of the former Martial Lord.

Small, quick, and agile, the goblin evaded attempts by Go Gin to throw him off.

Are you serious?!

Impossible!

Even though his helm covered his head, etches of surprise was evident in the war troll's face.

Dagger in hand, the Goblin searched for a weak spot.

His tattoo of 'Enri 3' glowed brightly.

The Horn of the Goblin General. Back in Yggdrasil, it was merely a throw-away item that summoned low level minions. No one understood why the developers decided to give the simple made horn a unique identifier. It was one of the few expandable items in the game that could not be converted into data crystals. However, in the New World, its true magic could be unlocked when certain conditions were met.

This was not one of those conditions.

Instead, another force was lending the goblin strength.

It was the horn he kept in his trousers.

His hidden power awakened, the goblin that was hanging off the former Martial Lords arm swung up like a gymnast to the nape of his opponent's neck.

A heroic aura was surrounding him.

His strike was accurate and true.

It was a magnificent stab.

There was a sickening 'schilkkk' as the blade dug deep into the neck of the war troll.

The roar of the crowd was deafening.

…

The goblin could feel the blade sink into his opponent's skin and fat.

He had inflicted a fatal wound on the former Martial Lord.

It was unmistakable.

Pride welled up within him.

He was a mere goblin, yet he had achieved what even the Adamantite ranked adventurers had failed to do.

But this was to be expected. After all, he was currently the wielder of the greatest force of all.

It was strength born of passion.

It was the power of love.

For centuries, this power was wielded by the greatest heroes and protagonists in legends to persevere through insurmountable odds—and today, this lonely goblin was graced with its blessing.

The war troll was writhing in pain and agony, and then stood motionless. All fight had left its body.

Happy memories of the future flooded the Goblin's mind.

With the power of love, he had vanquished his foe and would retire and return home to his Queen.

-and they would live happily ever after.

-and have beautiful hobgoblin children.

In the center of the stadium, a heavily armored troll stood motionless with a dagger sticking out of his neck.

It was over.

…

…

Um…

The goblin was still hanging off the shoulder of his opponent, and his hand was still on the dagger which was plunged deeply in the neck of the former Martial Lord.

Err…

...

 _Wasn't he supposed to fall down already?_

Go Gin remained standing with the blade stuck in the back of his exposed neck, in between his helm and chest piece.

The beast stirred.

Casually, he reached over and grabbed the Goblin.

Ackkkkk-

In a single fluid arc, Go Gin picked up the small goblin and tossed him outside the arena.

The creature landed with a dull thud on the dirt surface outside the arena. He was thrown out of bounds.

A shrill scream pierced the air.

There was a disturbance in the crowd as the village girl tried to climb across the rows of chairs and into the open arena. Around her, several goblins held on to her arms and legs in an attempt to restrain the girl.

The goblin stood up gingerly. He had an ear splitting headache, and likely a concussion. His ears felt full and stuffed. There was ringing. It was difficult to focus his vision. He tasted dirt and blood in his mouth. It was disgusting.

He spat.

What happened?

It only took a moment for him to recognize the events that had transpired.

The war troll had not taken a single step. The hilt of the blade was still protruding from his neck.

Suddenly, Go Gin lifted his massive arm and pulled the dagger out. It rang with a resounding 'clank' as it was tossed away and landed on the ceramic tiles. The wound was already healing. Not even a scar remained. The war troll lifted its shoulders and rubbed its neck like it was massaging out a mere muscle ache.

The goblin felt like a moron.

His body began to sag.

The proud tattoo on his left chest started drooping.

Dejected, he dragged his feet as he walked towards the exit in his self-imposed march of shame.

Eyes stuck to the ground, he did his best to avoid the gaze of onlookers as he exited back into the stands. The goblin could feel his cheeks flushing from embarrassment. He had failed in a spectacular fashion.

...

'Clap'

A single clap rang out.

Slowly, others followed suit.

...

'Clap' 'Clap' 'Clap'

Although the goblin did not know it, his actions on that day was monumental in getting his species accepted by human society in E-Rantel.

The city was currently filled to the brim with adventurers and warriors, not pompous nobles or biased traditionalists. Grudges aside, they respected strength and bravery. In fact, a few high ranking adventurer team even counted demi-humans and heteromorphs as part of their party.

Pretty soon, a chorus of applause echoed across the stadium.

Clap' 'Clap' 'Clap' 'Clap' 'Clap''Clap'

'Clap' 'Clap' 'Clap' 'Clap' 'Clap' 'Clap'

'Clap' 'Clap' 'Clap' 'Clap' 'Clap' 'Clap'

It was a salute to the courageous goblin who fought for his general.

It was a step towards the Sorcerer King's plan for a functioning multi-species society.

…

…

Osk looked down from the balcony in the stands. He could still feel the sting in his palms from clapping. His demeanor was both a mix of surprise and respect. To be fair, Osk was never a man confined to the typical bigotry that many humans, especially those from the Slane Theocracy, harbored. Although he was a man of business, he had enormous respect for courage and fighting prowess. That was the reason he was able to run the colosseum smoothly at the Baharuth Empire all those years.

At that moment, he had seen this small, unassuming goblin go against his beloved Martial Lord, who was a behemoth of steel and mythril, with nothing more than a small dagger and a bare chest.

It was impossible for any hot-blooded man to not offer respect.

Still…

Osk stared at his cherished child.

Covered in thick golden armor that complimented his regenerative properties, it was completely unfazed by the strike just now. In fact, it was more likely surprise that allowed the goblin's attack to succeed in the first place.

There were eleven contestants left in the arena.

A bear-like man with a spear.

A gargantuan warrior with maroon armor and a massive war pick.

A masked child.

A lovely warrior with a sword made of pure darkness.

A short, dark haired woman with a pair of glowing stilettos.

And of course, his beloved war troll.

The real battle was about to begin.


	21. Battle Royale Day 3

**Lengthy Author Note:**

Hey folks! I'm back.

Few things first:

1) **PLEASE!** PLEASE! PLEASE! **PLEASE RE-READ** **from the beginning** if you had forgotten how the story went.  As the AUTHOR, even I forgot who some of my original characters were and why I wrote a particular scene. I had to spend 3 days re-reading my very WORDY and BORING story (I apologize.. bad habit of mine) before I managed to catch up. My writing style is quite descriptive, and can be difficult to read in ONE sitting-as I have now personally experienced, but I HIGHLY recommend reading from the start once more as the story will MAKE MORE SENSE that way as my future chapters would reference many things that occurred in the earlier chapters, and I am a fan of fore-shadowing.

2) I am looking for capable co-writers to help me co-author this fanfic. Quite frankly, I am only able to spare 2-4 hours per week writing, but I would REALLY like to finish this story ASAP. The reason I left was because writing had become such a chore. I don't have writers block. While my memory is fuzzy, I can recall most of the major plot scenes that I had planned out when I originally wrote this fan fic 6 months ago. I know exactly what I want to write.. i just don't have the patience to write it. I am also open to your input in adding to the story, as my story is very FLEXIBLE.

Please PM me if you are interested.

3) I plan to devote about 2-4 hours a week, and I expect to churn out a chapter every week. (this chapter took 4 hours.. I pulled an all-nighter)

...

...

...

I better not see anyone reading past the line below if the terms "Gaius, Esmerelda, Red Book, etc" are unfamiliar to you!

* * *

After the embarrassing spectacle where a mere goblin dared to make the first move while a team of adamantite ranked adventurers could only cower in fear left a dark scowl on Gagaran's face.

Determined not to let the Goblin's brave legacy go unanswered, the rest of the contestants found their courage and began to take their positions in surrounding the Martial Lord.

Go-gin, the War Troll of the Baharuth Empire.

It was said that even the combined might of the Four Knights of the Empire would not be sufficient to vanquish this mighty foe.

Go-gin possessed the strength of an Orichalcum or even an Adamantite adventurer at the very least.

His innate regenerative properties and his knowledge of the [Martial Arts] made him a terrifying enemy in the field.

However, that was not the reason why the Blood Emperor felt that even his strongest knights would not be able to defeat him.

The reason why most of the spectators in the arena have placed bets on Go-gin was not simply because of his astounding strength and healing factor.

Rather, it was because Go-gin's only weakness was fire and acid.

And the rules of both the Empire and the Sorcerous Kingdom's battle tournament have expressedly forbid the use of magic.

The only way to defeat him was to deliver such a crippling blow that his inner regenerative factor could not keep up and becomes exhausted, or to kill him in one hit. This was precisely why Osk, the owner of the colosseum in the Baharuth Empire, spent nearly 1/5th of his entire fortunate on getting his favorite champion the best enchanted armor that money could buy. Several inches thick and weighing far more than its weight in gold, the armor made certain that none of those conditions would ever be met.

This was precisely why Go-gin felt no fear when all the contestants were grouping up against him. Rather, he felt a tinge of excitement, reminiscent of when he battled the Sorcerous King.

Even the crowd, who would typically frown upon such unsportsman-like behavior, were very understanding towards Lakyus, Gagaran and her crew.

…

The first to strike was Gagaran.

Fel-Iron, her infamous warpick, was held firmly in her grasp as she charged forward.

She had completely abandoned any defensive maneuvers in favor of delivering the strongest blow possible to breach the former Martial Lord's armor.

Meanwhile, at the 10 and 2o' clock position, Lakyus and Evil Eye made their respective attacks.

The leader of Blue Rose drew her morbid dark blade which seemed to absorb even the bright afternoon sunlight, while Evil Eye, who still hid behind a cryptic mask, had a single dagger in her right hand.

At the 4 o'clock position, Gaius, a simple spear wielding farmer who joined the tournament in search for fortune and fame, rushed forward. Clad in armor fashioned from the skin of an unusual beast that he had slain back in his farm; his body was infused with the hopes and dreams of his family as he ran towards the fearsome war troll.

As one of the few non-adventurers who managed to pass the Death Knight challenge, he was determined to prove his worth to the world.

Finally, at the 8 o'clock position, Esmerelda stood dumbstruck at her current predicament. Merely a week ago, she was sitting in a restaurant while a pompous noblewoman stormed off with her apologetic butler in tow, and her conscience nagged her to ride out and warn them of an incoming bandit attack.

Somehow, it ended up with her accompanying Sebas and his master into the city of E-Rantel. They even took her out shopping!

Right now, she was in the arena holding a pair of stilettos and facing the dreaded former Martial Lord.

Esmerelda looked at her weapons.

Her pitiful, flimsy weapons.

She glanced back at the golden heavy plate armor that her opponent was wearing.

 _It has got to be at least three inches thick!_

Esmerelda was a capable fighter in her own right. After all, she had passed the Death Knight challenge.

 _…_ _although only barely._

With a disappointed sigh, she nonetheless took her position and charged forward. After all, the plan depended on it.

An assault from all angles.

This was their best chance at victory.

This was not a mock battle where one could test out strategies and innovative tactics.

Injuries were painful and disabling, and death was a real possibility.

No one wanted to end up crippled from being careless.

The remaining 5 nameless contestants sorted themselves amongst our protagonists.

Each of them a Gold-ranked or above in skill, they knew this was their best chance in surviving this round. No one here was an amateur. After all, this tournament was designed to filter out the top 50 strongest freelance fighters in both the Re-Estize Kingdom and the Baharuth Empire—or at least, filter the ones brave enough to enter deep into an undead Sorcerer King's domain.

Go-gin grinned.

His heart shot adrenaline across his body.

 _An attack from all sides, eh?_

 _This is going to be fun._

The tension was palpable.

No one knew who started it, but soon a roar enveloped the stadium which signaled the charge.

Gagaran yelled a battle cry, while Lakyus and Evileye screamed.

Gaius bellowed while Esmerelda shrieked.

The other contestants howled while the crowd cheered.

And finally, the war troll in the center answered the challenge with a taunting war cry; spit and saliva shooting from the slits of his helm.

ARGHHHHHH!

YARGHHH!

AHH!

UUUGGGHHHHHHHHHH!

AAAAAA!

GRAAGHH!

The crowd held their breaths as they witnessed all the contestants converge on the armored war troll in the center of the arena.

…

A sonic boom thundered.

The bellowing sweep from the former Martial Lord's metal club swung a full 180 degrees.

The first to endure the brunt of the war trolls attack was a Gold ranked adventurer at the 11 o'clock position.

CRUNCH!

It was a sickening sound as the unfortunate nameless adventurer was thrown like a rag doll from the momentum of the swing. The metal club, unhindered by the crumpled heap of metal that was once a contestant, continued its warpath.

CRUNCH!

Another nameless Gold ranked contestant was caught in its swing, and flew out of the arena. Fortunately, some of the momentum was already lost on the first victim.

Finally, the metal club came upon Gagaran, the mountain.

CLAAAAANG!

It was the sound of metal against metal.

It was the sound when an unstoppable force met an immovable object.

She grunted, but stood firm.

[Invulnerable fortress]

[Body strengthening]

Even with the reinforcement from her [Martial Arts], Gagaran was pushed back several meters.

 _What raw power!_

Gagaran felt herself smile despite the situation.

Her warrior blood was boiling.

After all, she had to redeem herself from the disgraceful defeat at the hands of the demon Jaldabaoth. It had taken months to recover her strength after her reincarnation. Even now, she did not feel she was back to full strength.

Meanwhile, the other attackers struck.

As they drew closer, they studied the war trolls armor and looked for weaknesses. Unfortunately, there were not many.

Asides from the small slits in the helmet and gaps in the joint spaces which permitted flexibility while wearing the armor, there were not many openings.

For the small goblin to have stabbed Go-Gin in the last fight, well.. lets just say he was insanely lucky.

The first attack was a spear thrust from Gaius.

He aimed at the left shoulder joint.

It was a well-placed strike that was reinforced by the martial arts.

[Piercing strike!]

[Physical boost!]

The head of the spear shattered as Gaius arms trembled from the feedback vibrations.

Next was the attack from Lakyus.

Her dark blade left eerie after-shadows as it aimed for right shoulder.

Whether it was the mystical property of her obsidian blade, or merely her skill as the leader of the adamantite adventurer party, Blue Rose, the blade penetrated through the weaker parts of the armor protecting the shoulder and cut into flesh and fascia.

Evil Eye followed up with a strike at precisely the same area.

Plunging her dagger deep into the opening made by her leader, Evil Eye attempted to pry open the gash left by Lakyus's blade.

Esmerelda jumped on top of the war troll and desperately brought her pair of stilettos down into the slits in the Martial Lord's helm.

Squeeesshh!

That was the sound of her blades cutting into Go-gin's face and cheeks. It also lacerated the edges of his eye.

Finally, the remaining adventurers struck at the respective weak points in the war trolls armor.

Go-Gin was a pin cushion.

With spears, daggers, stilettos, long and short swords sticking out of his flesh, the war troll bellowed a final cry before swinging his metal club once more.

Then he did something unexpected.

Shaking off his opponents, Go Gin lurched forward and collided with Gagaran.

With his massive frame and weight, coupled with the surprise movement, he had caught her unaware.

She did not apply her defensive martial arts in time, while Go Gin used [Pace of the Wind] to increase his momentum.

Ugghhhhhhhhhh!

Gagaran was knocked flat on her back several meters away; dazed and confused.

Everyone else was stunned at the sudden attack that swatted Gagaran, the mountain, away like a small child.

Go gin used this opportunity to retaliate against his opponents.

With the speed granted by [Flow Acceleration] and the augmented strength from [Strong Strike], plus the enhanced physical abilities granted by his numerous magical amulets and rings, the heavy and lumbering war troll moved like a blurry shadow.

Except this shadow weight over 500kg and wielded a 5-foot iron club.

Kinetic energy is 0.5 x MV^2.

Where M = mass of object, and V= speed of object.

This equation reveals that the kinetic energy of an object is directly proportional to the square of its speed. That means that for a twofold increase in speed, the kinetic energy will increase by a factor of four. For a threefold increase in speed, the kinetic energy will increase by a factor of nine. And for a fourfold increase in speed, the kinetic energy will increase by a factor of sixteen

And this kinetic energy was about to be unleashed upon these poor human adventurers.

The first victim was Gagaran.

As she struggled to stand from the sudden attack, Go Gin slammed his titanic metal club into her side.

If not for her armor Gaze Bane, or her muscular interior, she would have been splattered to pieces.

Instead, she was thrown further away.

A dent was seen on the metal club that Go gin carried.

This time, Gagaran did not attempt to stand up again.

…

The next victims were the unnamed adventurers.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

Smack!

The blunt force was so great that each of them flew out of the arena.

Without pause, Go Gin continued his assault.

Discarding his dented metal club, he picked up Gaius and threw him at Esmerelda.

They collided with a soft thud of skull hitting skull.

They would both be waking up with concussions later on.

Finally, the war troll set his sights on Lakyus and Evil Eye.

But…

A fog of white obscured his vision.

 _Huh?!_

Go gin paused at this sudden event.

Like a wispy smoke, a hovering mist of white completely blocked his vision. It coated his visor, and his armor. It also floated in the air like dust in an abandoned attic.

 _Is this powder?_

 _No.._

 _Is this flour?_

Go gin extended his gauntlet to ascertain that, indeed, a fine powder was coating it.

 _But..wh.._

Before he could complete his sentence, the world exploded in fire and smoke.

…

…

A dust explosion occurs when fine particles in the air combusts. Fine flour has a very large surface area compared to their mass. Since burning can only occur at the surface of a solid or liquid, where it can react with oxygen, this causes dusts to be much more flammable than bulk materials.

This was a common hazard for people working in flour mills, sawdust factories, and coal mines. As the fine particles are highly flammable, even static electricity could cause an unwanted explosion.

Coincidentally, flour explosions were commonly used in modern movie explosions.

…

Go Gin felt the heat from the expanding hot air after the explosion.

Even the crowd, who were positioned at least 20 meters away, could feel the warmth radiating from the combustion.

Seconds later, the resultant shockwave from the displaced hot air blew the flour away, while the remained unburnt powder fell to the ground.

 _Wait?_

 _Was that it?_

 _No, it can't be…_

Soon, Go-gin felt a burning sensation at his right shoulder.

Instantly, he turned his head to see a small flame atop a viscous black material.

It had seeped into the gap and into the wound created by Lakyus and Evil Eye in their earlier attacks.

Hot burning pain shot down his arm and back.

 _Oil!_

 _This was oil!_

Moments later, Go gin spied several glass flasks thrown in his direction.

Caught by surprise, he was not able to react in time before they shattered and coated him with more black oil.

Like a ravenous beast, the flame quickly spread and soon Go Gin was lit on fire.

Because of the sticky nature of black oil, the war troll knew that he could not simply shake it off. Furthermore, the stop, drop, and roll method would not work when one was coated in gallons of thick sludgy oil.

Evil Eye let out a relieved sigh.

Fire and acid.

It was the only way to stop the war troll's regenerative properties.

She had nearly ripped her hair out in frustration as she resisted the temptation to use fire magic throughout the entire fight. As the unofficial strongest fighter in Blue Rose, who was even able to battle toe to toe against the insect maid servant of the great demon Jaldabaoth, she grew increasingly agitated at the no-magic handicap placed on her.

Fortunately, they were other ways to create fire.

Adventurers were always prepared.

Planning in advance was the key to survival in this harsh world, and could mean the difference between life and death.

Know your opponent!

Plan ahead!

Coincidentally, these were also key teaching points in Punnito Moe's book "A guide to PK-ing".

…

A low guttural laugh originated from the crowd.

…

Ha-ah ha-ah haha haha..

Ha-ah ha-ah haha haha..

Ha-ah ha-ah haha haha..

Ha-ah ha-ah haha haha..

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Everyone turned to look at the source of this inappropriate laughter.

They found the culprit.

And he was bent over laughing.

It was a short and stout man with his hair cut so short that you could see his scalp.

At his feet was a sack full of paper betting slips.

Next to him was a man with fiery red hair and a freckled face with the fading scars of manacles on his wrists.

The short and stout man who was laughing uncontrollably was none other than the former master of Go-Gin, the Martial Lord.

It was Osk, the proprietor of the colosseum in the Baharuth Empire.

Ha-ah ha-ah haha haha..

Ha-ah ha-ah haha haha..

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

He drew the attention of the crowd.

Their curious stares and frowns were focused on him as they waited for him to finish.

Suddenly, Go Gin started walking forward.

A 500 kg monstrosity of metal and muscle.

A nightmarish 500kg monstrosity of metal and muscle that was on FIRE.

The flames burned wildly as the armor-clad war troll strolled forward without a care in the world.

A walking inferno.

A creature of Morgoth.

A Balrog of fire and flame.

And fear fell on the eyes of everyone.

…

…

…

Osk sported a wide, maniacal grin on his face as he watched his beloved child walk forward covered in nightmarish flames.

Truly, it was a scene from hell.

 _Did they really think it would work?_

 _Did Blue Rose really think that he would have not taken counter-measures to the only two weaknesses his favorite gladiator had?_

 _Fire and acid._

There was a reason why Osk spent 1/5th of his entire fortune on the golden armor of his champion.

Physical resistance.

Acid resistance.

And of course...

Fire resistance.

[Flow acceleration]

In an instant, the war troll appeared in front of Evil Eye.

She reactively jumped back several more meters than intended to shield herself from the heat of the flames.

 _I mean, what else could you do when a flaming monstrosity suddenly appeared before you._

This left her in a vulnerable position.

 _What luck!_

 _What terrible, rotten luck!_

 _A thousand curses on this day!_

As a vampire, she had an inherent weakness to fire and sunlight.

While her cloak prevented the harmful effects of the sun and had some degree of fire resistance, the roaring flames were still terrifying and antagonistic.

Yet despite Evil Eye cursing her terrible luck, her over-reaction from reflexively avoiding the fiery troll had saved her from a grievous injury.

Go-Gin bear-hugged the empty space where, just moments ago, the small child-warrior of Blue Rose had been standing.

Evil Eye gulped.

 _Phew!_

She had narrowly avoided the clutches of a raging inferno.

…

Unfortunately, this transient moment of gratitude left her unprepared for the war trolls next attack.

Charging forward, Go-gin moved even faster than usual to tackle Evil Eye.

He was completely ignoring Lakyus at this point. After all, there would be two victors in this Battle Royale out of the original twelve contestants. He simply needed to eliminate one more opponent.

"Noo!"

Screamed Lakyus.

But it was too late.

…

The war troll outstretched his fiery fingers to grab hold of the small vampire.

She would look like a toy doll in comparison to his massive hands.

However, instead of grasping Evil Eye, his fingers instead met with another pair of hands.

And those hands belonged to a similarly massive figure comparable to the war trolls' own large frame.

Gagaran, with blood dripping from the crevices and creases of her infamous armor Gaze Bane, was locked in a fierce struggle with the fiery war troll.

Evil Eye could smell the singed flesh and burning hair as her companion acted as her wall once more in her time of need.

…

…

 _Now is my chance!_

 _I must use it!_

 _I hope this works!_

Lakyus looked at her blade.

The handle was beautiful and inlaid with a black sapphire that was embedded into the pommel that was like a brightly burning flame. The guard at the end of the grip was fashioned in the macabre shape of a skull. Even under the today's bright afternoon sun, the blade itself seemed to embody the darkness of night

Long had she struggled in an everlasting battle against the sentient darkness that resided within that sword.

It had the power to annihilate a city.

But that was not a strength she wished to wield.

At least, not today.

With her free hand, Lakyus took out a large ball of wax from her cloak.

It was the size of a tennis ball, if such a thing existed in the New World.

Of course, the wax was simply a coat which covered the object in question.

Inside was a shiny metal that Lakyus had gotten from Tia and Tina.

Lakyus did not know the name of the weird silvery metal in her left hand.

She only knew that it did.

 _This is my chance!_

Go gin was preoccupied with the sudden appearance of Gagaran.

As the two titans locked themselves in a tug of war, Lakyus made her move.

Running forward, she tossed the fist sized ball of wax and promptly sliced it with her sword.

Small spheres of metal covered in fine oil landed on the back of the fiery war troll.

They lodged themselves deep in the sticky, flaming tar that covered the former Martial Lord.

…

Go Gin spied movement in the corner of his eye, but saw no reason to fear.

He also easily overpowered his opponent, and forced her back step by step in their contest of brute strength.

He could smell the burning skin of his opponent.

As for himself, he only felt a warm breeze despite being literally on fire.

He silently thanked his former employer for letting him keep the armor.

There was a flash of light followed by a loud sizzle.

It was blinding.

And soon the entirety of Go Gin's vision went white from pain.

…

The weapon used was from Tia and Tina.

Both infamous former assassins of Ijaniya, they had a large underground base where expert alchemists and magicians worked tirelessly on designing poisons, weapons, explosives, and a myriad of covert gadgets designed especially for assassins and espionage missions.

The technology of the new world was barely beyond the Middle Ages, but their magical prowess allowed for more advanced machinery and structures.

Magic could create water, salt, sugar, and restore nutrients in the soil. It could even create food, although the taste was so bad that people would rather starve than eat them.

Naturally, being able to create salt and sugar as well as nutrients in the soil meant that magic was, at the very least, capable of creating basic elements and compounds.

In fact, an experienced druid who specialized in earth magic could replenish the soil and allow for permanent soil fertility.

The three main nutrients in soil are nitrogen (N), phosphorus (P) and potassium (K). Together they make up the trio known as NPK. Other important nutrients are calcium, magnesium and sulfur.

It was not difficult to train a druid to summon a single basic nutrient in the soil, but in small, pure quantities.

Naturally, no one in the New World knew the name of these chemical elements.

In a world of fantasy and magic, scientific advancement was neglected. Furthermore, constant wars and conflict severely limited the free dissemination of information and breakthroughs.

However, there were crazy alchemists working in secret labs in every nation. And the Ijaniya Assassins guild was one such employer.

…..

…..

Gagaran immediately dis-engaged from her opponent and backed off.

Evil Eye followed suit and quickly scurried off as well.

Lakyus had to turn around to shield herself from the bright light emanating from the small metallic spheres lodged in the war troll's back.

Soon, a terrible guttural cry escaped from Go gin's lips.

It was a horrible cry.

Uuuuuugggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

The crowd covered their ears and clenched their fists.

It was the wail of a tortured beast.

It was a scream of pure pain and agony.

It was a sound unbecoming from the respected War Troll.

Sweat dripped from Osk's brow as his stomach churned from the pitiful whimpers from his beloved champion.

 _What was happening?_

 _What were they doing to him?_

 _What did they do to his precious child?!_

It was as if a miniature sun had appeared in the arena.

The crowd struggled to peer past the brilliant lights.

Less than thirty seconds passed when the blinding light subsided…and it revealed a horrific sight.

…

Like the claw marks of a horrible beast, there were three very deep, large gashes on the back of the war troll. They extended from his shoulder all the way down to the bottom of his spine.

It revealed a smooth and glistening brown surface that seemed to slide up and down.

Everyone was stunned.

It took them a moment to realize what they were seeing.

Lungs.

They were the war troll's lungs.

A brilliant, luminous fire had burnt through his thick, plate armor.

It burnt through his skin.

It burnt through his fat.

It burnt through his muscle.

It burnt though his ribs.

And it exposed his lungs.

And it was even burning through that.

It was a gory sight. It was simply surreal.

They were staring at the sliding of the pleura that covered the lungs with each ragged breath the war troll took.

Once again, a tortured wail emanated from the former Martial Lord.

However, it was suddenly cut short as the molten metal burnt through even further into his lungs, preventing him from taking in air.

He was dying.

And his regenerative properties were not kicking in due to the heat.

…

Magnesium is a common element in the Earth's crust, and an important element that is present in abundance in soil. Refining a pure form of the raw metal in a traditional sense was far beyond the technological means of the current society in the New World. Fortunately, they had magic.

While it was more technically challenging to create complex structures and compounds, basic material such as sugar and salt was easy. It was only a matter of time before a scholarly mage tried to study those compounds and broke them down into smaller base elements. The creation of steel weapons required the production of forges which utilized quicklime, bituminous coal, and coke - was the result of said experimentations. Unfortunately, the finer industrial utility of many basic elements was lost to them.

Magnesium burned at a temperature of approximately 3,100 °C (5,610 °F) with blinding fluorescence. It would melt though anything in its path.

It was used in small amounts by Tina and Tia, along with the assassins of Ijaniya to melt down gate hinges or locks, or used in powder form as a make-shift flashbang to disorient enemies.

And Lakyus threw a fistful of pure magnesium metal at her enemy.

The weird metal, through the sheer intensity of the exothermic reaction, burned through the expensive, fire resistant golden armor like paper, and dealt a grievous injury to Go-gin.

…

…

Ainz pressed his skeletal hands together in fascination while staring at the remote viewing screen back in the Great Tomb of Nazarick. He was not perturbed by the brilliant white light from the burning metal; after all, he lacked any eyeballs to begin with.

Surprisingly, he was also unaffected by the gory sight in front of him. Perhaps it was the side effect of his Overlord body eclipsing the human side of Suzuki Satoru. Or perhaps he simply got used to it.

[Message] activate.

…

"Mare…"

…

…

Lakyus stared, mouth agape, at the destruction wrought from the strange burning metal.

The war troll was dying before here, writhing in terrible agony but unable to take a single proper breath.

Like hot pieces of coal, the bright orange spheres of metal continue burning deeper and deeper.

Deeper and deeper.

Deeper and deeper.

Until…

…

Sizzle!

Siizzzz!

Sizzzzzzzz!

SSSSZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ!

A dark elf child with lustrous golden hair and mismatched heterochromic eyes stood with a staff outstretched. He wore an elegant blue dragon leather full bodied suit covered with a white and gold vest emblazoned with the crest of Ainz Ooal Gown. A rangers' forest-green clock hung from his back.

Despite being a boy, he had a short white skirt which bewitchingly revealed his dark-skinned thighs. An acorn necklace hung from his neck which emitted a faint silver light.

The high-pitched shriek of sizzling metal filled the arena.

It was a prolonged sound, and the stadium was silent as everyone simply listened to the eerie noise.

Szzzzzzzzzzz

Szzzzzzzzzzz.

Szzzzzzzzzzz.

Eventually, the sound stopped, and the ragged breathing of the war troll calmed down.

Kneeling in defeat with his back exposed, the audience could see that his wounds were slowly repairing themselves.

A soft voice spoke up.

…

Um…

The-winner—

The.. winner is—Lakyus and Evil Eye!

…

…

….

…

…. !

It took a moment for the announcement to register.

The crowd stared at the defeated war troll.

The champion of the Sorcerous King, Ainz Ooal Gown.

The favored contender in this tournament.

The 500 kg behemoth of muscle and metal.

The ace fighter of the undead lich…

…and he was kneeling in defeat.

…

Go Gin, the gladiator for the Sorcerous King, had lost.

Suddenly, the hopes of victory were rekindled in the eyes of the remaining 28 contestants in the tournament. Perhaps this tournament was not rigged. Perhaps the fifty thousand gold prize money was attainable after all. Perhaps the promise of nobility, and the hand of Princess Renner was something within their reach-if they were strong enough to take it.

-and a thunderous applause filled the arena.

* * *

Author Note: One fight scene. 16 pages. And there are.. 9 more battles to go? FML. Writing a good fight scene is difficult.

Please leave a review, as it has been a while and I AM RUSTY. Also, reviews/favs/follows motivate me to write more.. and trust me, writing is very painful. Any comments and "constructive" criticism is appreciated.

I don't have a proof-reader anymore =(


	22. Aftermath of an unexpected defeat

I would like to thank "Imjustaregulardude" for writing some parts of this story. As the only one who PM'd me about helping me out, I would like to dedicate this chapter to him.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy!

The next chapter is on the way as well

* * *

The young elf-child strode towards the center of the arena and came face to face with the whimpering beast.

It was quivering and trembling, while its breathing was labored and ragged. A rancid odor of burning flesh and cartilage wafted in the air. The distinct malodorous aroma of burning hair together with charred skin was nauseating.

The beast's innards were exposed to the elements, and blisters of pus and weeping sores spilled over cauterized muscle and bone.

Yet the creature was unmistakable alive; every gasp of air full of pain, misery, and suffering.

Mare examined the exposed back of the war-troll.

The burning metal left three large gashes on his back; the tracks extended all the way to his spine, and some even burnt through all the way to the front.

Mare bent over, and noticed light coarsing through.

"Oh-...I can see through it."

The small dark elf circled around the kneeling war-troll and went to the front.

Mare could feel the warm breaths of the war troll blowing over his hair.

Bending over, Mare picked up a small piece of the glowing, hot metal that seared through Go-Gin and fell to the floor. A collective gasp emanated from the crowd as the young dark elf held the scorching hot metal in his gloved hands.

Although the initial exothermic reaction was nearly exhausted, and much of the heat dissipated as it sizzled through the war troll's flesh and bone, the piece of Magnesium was still blistering and oxidizing when Mare picked it up.

"Hm-"

"Sorry-Lord Ainz- wanted me- to-take this"

The boy then pocketed the glowing hot metal; to the disbelief of the crowd.

Soon, a commotion began to form in the audience.

"Out of my way!"

"I'm telling you! Out of my way!"

"My son!"

"I need to see my son!"

Mare turned around, and saw a large stout man wadding through the crowd and trying to hop across the wall and into the arena.

The man had a crew cut with his hair so short, you could see his scalp.

It was Osk, owner of the colosseum in the Baharuth Empire, and former master of the Martial Lord.

The man leaped over the wall and dashed past the Death Knights standing guard.

Osk had a worried look on his face. He never expected Go gin would lose to anyone. He lost quite a sum of money today but it did not matter to him. Go gin was his most prized treasure.

The undead guardians did not react to the intrusion as they were programmed only to prevent entry when the matches were active. They lacked any intelligence or flexibility otherwise, and did not bother stopping Osk from approaching the arena.

Astonished whisper rippled amongst the audience as Osk streaked into the field.

"My son!"

His eyes were red and tears of anguish flowed freely as he perceived the state of his beloved Go gin.

Osk dropped to the ground and grinded his nose to the ground as he groveled to the young elf child. He looked at Mare. Osk knew that this elf child is a servant of the Sorcerer King. He did not know anymore than that.

"Please... save him!"

"Please... save my son!"

Mare merely stared back with utter indifference.

Suddenly, the air directly in front of him simmered. The colors bled into one another as if one was washing their paint brush with the air as the solvent. It was a vortex of color. Blues became yellow. Greys became green. Red became white. By the end of the product, only a swirling whirlpool remained, and the sounds of an echoing tunnel was heard.

And out of the portal, stepped out Death personified.

It had twin points of crimson light that burned brightly within the empty orbits of a bleached skull. Wearing an intricately detailed black robe that seemed to swallow light, the figure was cloaked in a black and red aura swirling down to its feet.

An avatar of death, born from the darkness of another world.

Ainz Ooal Gown, the Sorcerous King, had made a personal appearance.

Another figure stepped out of the swirling watercolor vortex; A female warrior clad in obsidian armor and wielding a massive shield. Albedo had volunteered to be Ainz' personal guard during this excursion.

The skeletal overlord strode towards his whimpering champion, the war troll, Go-gin.

After a quick assessment of his wounds, the undead lich produced a small glass vial filled with a rich purple liquid.

Holding it out in front of the war troll and pouring a few drops into his open mouth, the Sorcerous King commanded; "Drink this".

A green aura began to envelop the war troll. The tortured gasping stopped as his lungs regrew and organs regenerated.

This seemed to stabilize Go-gin's condition, although his wounds were still severe and open to the elements.

Ainz produced a second vial and fed it to the war troll.

To the audience, it seemed that the war troll's regenerative properties increased by a hundred-fold.

His muscles knitted themselves together, while the fascia kept everything intact. The subcutaneous layers began stitching themselves together, while his skin regrew at an exponential rate. Soon, several small black and orange pellets were pushed out and dropped to the ground; likely spent, oxidized metal.

Go gin began to breath comfortably, although he remained in a kneeling position. While the healing potion could repair physical injuries, it was not able to restore stamina or alleviate fatigue.

Ainz motioned towards Mare.

"Take him back to Nazarick infirmary."

The young elf-child bowed, and proceeded to haul the massive war troll onto his back.

Truly, it was a comical sight. The audience stared in bewilderment and astonishment as the small dark elf lifted the 500kg behemoth of metal and flesh effortlessly like a toy. They remained speechless with mouths agape long after Mare exited into the portal with Go-gin in tow.

"Ahem-"

Their attention snapped back to the arena as they watched the Sorcerer King approach the Blue Rose adventurers.

Ainz stopped in front of the body of Gagaran. The noxious smell of charred flesh and burnt hair permeated the air around her. Blood flowed from the crevices of her infamous armor Gaze Bane, likely from the impact of Go-Gins metal club shattering her ribs.

Truly, this was a hard-fought battle.

As Ainz proceeded to pour some of the potion into Gagaran's lips, he was interrupted by a panicked cry from Evileye.

Standing up, the Sorcerer King met her gaze. Due to her mask, he could also see her eyes.

They were filled with a complex amalgamation of emotions, but primarily one of fear and suspicion.

"You don't trust me?"

Evileye remained silent.

"Even after seeing the effects on the war troll?"

Again, the masked vampire remained silent.

Behind him, Ainz felt an all-too-familiar- terrifying, hostile aura.

 _Albedo!_

 _He forgot about her!_

 _Shit!_

 _I need to calm her down, fast!_

Ainz casually tossed the purple potion towards Lakyus, whose eyes widened in surprise as she caught it.

"It matter not what you do with it, but I recommend giving it to your fallen comrade. She looks like she needs it."

Lakyus stared at the purple potion. There was about 10cc of violet liquid in the ornate glass vial. She gave it a swirl, and popped the cork. It was difficult to describe the odor— a mix of crushed grass, rust, and cooper with a hint of lavender. It was not a pleasant smell, but not unwholesome as well—like a sweet metallic pungency.

The leader of Blue Rose stared back into the eyes of the undead Sorcerer King; struggling to analyze his intentions and see through his deceit. She was met only with ruby red points of light floating in dark, empty eye sockets.

Holding the purple vial up against the bright afternoon rays, Lakyus whispered; [Detect Enchant] [Appraise Magical Item] [Detect Poison].

By now, the crowd was deathly silent. Everyone was straining to pick up on the conversation.

"….."

"….."

"Impossible!"

Her hands trembled as she used both hands to cradle the potion like a cherished infant.

"This is-"

"This is a true healing potion!"

"It is at least-tier 2 or more!"

Lakyus's voice was unintentionally loud.

Her mind raced as she pondered the implications of the existence of such a potion.

An ordinary potion in the New World was equivalent to a tier one healing potion, and would cost 1 gold and 10 silver coins. Made from Ryunks stones, Vievul dragon stones, and gold nostrum, it would take a beginner rank adventurer close to six months of frugal living to save up enough to afford one. Even then, it had a fatal drawback. It could not heal fatal wounds.

Furthermore, Tier one potions were not equally effective amongst the adventurer ranks.

For instance, the amount of healing obtained from one potion would be different if the adventurer was Adamantite ranked versus a Silver ranked. The theory was that healing potions only recovered a fixed amount of health points, and the damage needed to cripple an Adamantite Ranked adventurer was far greater than the damage needed to disable a Silver Ranked adventurer.

Because of this, Platinum ranked adventurers or higher had to drink 2-3x as many healing potions compared to others. In a real battle where even milliseconds could mean life or death, this was a significant drawback.

A tier two potion would cost about 8 to 32 gold coins, and were exceedingly rare and were only permitted to be sold in limited quantities to high ranking adventurers or rich nobles.

Thus, magic casters who could utilize higher tiered healing spells were highly valued and fiercely protected.

Tier three potions existed only in myths and legends, and tales of them only existed in the Slane Theocracy.

If the Sorcerous King had managed to mass-produce Tier 2 healing potions, it would render the priests of the Temples would be nearly obselete.

Evileye interrupted.

"It cannot be!"

"The only tier two healing potions I've seen are red!"

"…."

Ainz's eyes glowed as the mood shifted abruptly.

Meanwhile, Albedo was furious.

"A maggot like you...dare...question...my...love?"

The atmosphere turned dark as the members of Blue Rose felt a cold chill run across their spines. It was a suffocating, stifling aura. The air began to weigh down upon them, and each successive breath seemed just a little harder to take in. An irresistible urge to flee took hold. EvilEye and Lakyus began to involuntarily back off from the Sorcerer King.

-and just like that, the threatening aura dissapated.

The Blue Rose adventurers breathed an unnaturally loud sigh of relief.

It appeared to the audience that Ainz Ooal Gown was displeased with the distrust and skepticism of the adamantite ranked adventurers.

"I will give it to her right away!"

Lakyus scurried towards Gagaran and hastily fed her the purple potion.

As expected, the hulking adventurer's breathing calmed down and the profuse bleeding stopped. While the healing process was hidden behind her mighty armor Gaze Bane, it was clear that Gagaran was regaining her health.

"No—stop-don't get up!"

Lakyus cried as Gagaran tenaciously stumbled towards the Sorcerer King.

She knelt before him.

Ainz's ruby eyes flared once more.

The meaning behind the warriors action was clear.

It was an expression of respect.

It was an expression of submission.

Ainz walked towards the remaining contestants. Each of them were lying on the ground; no doubt grievously injured from Go Gins attacks. Fortunately, no one had died.

The Sorcerer King would have been very disappointed if the war troll did not heed his command to avoid outright killing anyone.

While Ainz had promised free resurrections anyone who succumbed to their injuries during the tournament, he was loath to waste his precious wands of resurrection.

Ainz came upon the first nameless contestant.

The man was still writhing in agony on the ground; desperate for salvation.

"Thank you for your valor today. May you rise to fight another day—"

In a scene akin to a baptism, with his majestic robes billowing in the wind, Father Ainz proceeded to fed each fallen contestant with a sip of the purple healing potion while thanking each of them for their courage and bravery.

Everyone could only stare at this black robed God of Despair healed the injured and the crippled.

"There- I will not have you valiant adventurers fall today."

"After all, there could be a Momon in each of you, and I will not have such potential be wasted away by something as trivial as physical injury."

As Ainz sauntered towards the swirling portal, a cry rang out.

"Wait-Please!"

Lakyus ran to the Sorcerer King, prompting Albedo to tense up and raise her shield.

"Be at ease, Albedo."

"You may approach, Lakyus of Blue Rose."

The blond haired woman stopped at a respectable distance from the Sorcerer King and knelt, terrified of the black armored female warrior standing next to him.

While genuflecting, she beseeched him.

"Please, Your Majesty. I, Lakyus Alvein Dale Aindra, humbly beg you to provide me a sample of the healing potion you used to restore our fallen comrade."

...

….

"No, I'm sorry, but I cannot do that."

There was a flash of disappointment.

"I have thousands of potions such as these-and can mass produce them with ease, but they are reserved solely for my troops and the adventurers who pledged themselves to the Sorcerous Kingdom."

"Do not mistake my generosity for charity."

"After all... A King has to take care of his own first..."

And with that, the Overlord of Death vanished along with his female bodyguard in tow.

…

 _Wait...did he mean that, as adventurers in the Sorcerous Kingdom, we get access to tier 2 healing potions?_

 _No-but—could it be?_

 _Did he really say he could mass produce them with ease?!_

 _I mean—he's undead after all, so there would be a surplus of potions._

 _Does he really mean to give them to anyone who joined his adventurer guild?_

 _How much do you think it will cost?_

 _How many will each person get?_

 _Will we have to earn it?_

 _How many do you think the Sorcerous King has?_

 _Was it a trick?_

 _Why was the potion purple?_

 _Do you think it was a farce? Could it be poison?_

 _Does this mean there would be no need for temples?_

All these whispers began circulating amongst the crowd as everyone began passionately discussing the implications of the Sorcerer King's words.

His parting words left a lasting impression.

-A King takes care of his own first...

…

…

Back in Nazarick, Ainz and Albedo appeared back into the viewing room.

The first thing the Overlord of Death did was speak to Shalltear.

"My apologies Shalltear. I did not expect the leader of Blue Rose to ask for a sample of the potion. I understand how difficult it is to coordinate teleportation into Nazarick, and to sustain the portal for that long."

Shalltear was panting heavily, but her eyes gleamed in pleasure and satisfaction at the gift of serving her Lord.

Albedo screamed in frustration.

"That little human bitch! I cannot accept how a worthless insect would dare question your generosity and benevolence!"

"My Lord Ainz, with your permission, I would like to return to the arena and liberate her simple minded head from the rest of her body."

With a wave of his skeletal hands, Ainz calmed his second-in-command down.

"There is no need, Albedo. After all, she reacted exactly as I would have expected."

Ainz gave a nod to Demiurge.

This was now a practiced routine for him.

 _…_

 _"Mwahahaha"_

 _"Mua haha haha haha"_

Demiurge spread his arms wide as he basked under an imaginary spotlight.

"Don't you see, Albedo. Her skepticism, along with the subsequent casting of those detection spells only served to reinforce the truth in Lord Ainz's words."

With a swooping motion, Demiurge pointed as the viewing screen.

"Look! Listen! Do you not hear these insects!"

"Even now, they sing of our great Lord's magnanimity and generosity, as they senselessly debate the implications of his actions and the existence of this revolutionary healing potion."

"As expected of his Majesty—they dance in the palm of his hands"

"-"

"-"

"Amazing!"

"Incredible!"

"As expected of my Beloved, please forgive this one for her foolishness!"

"- . -"

The undead overlord gave a small cough.

"Ahem..."

"Albedo, what do you think of the fight?"

Her beautiful face twisted in disgust.

"It is simply unforgivable. To lose despite being the champion of Ainz-sama is simply unacceptable."

Shalltear nodded in agreement.

"I see. Cocytus, what about you? What did you think of the fight?"

Having an impressive body size of 2.5m, Cocytus had the appearance of a fusion between a mantis and an ant. His exoskeleton glimmered with frost, giving it the illusion of diamond dust. There was also a chrome like metallic sheen that reflected off his body. He had a tail that was twice as long as his height and four clawed arms. Fearsome looking mandibles jolted from his jaw.

Mists of condensation formed with each word uttered.

"I. Think. That. He. Fought. Extremely. Well., He. Dominated. Most. Of. The. Time. He. Lost. Because. Of. The. Unexpected. And. Brilliant. Tactics. Of. The. Opponent."

Ainz was not surprised by the reactions of Albedo and Shaltear. He placed more value on Cocytus's opinion. As a warrior, his experience and instincts gives him an edge in analyzing the fight with an impartial view.

"I agree with Cocytus. Furthermore, his opponents were three adamantite adventurers, the Re-Estize Kingdom's strongest team. I won't punish him Albedo, I did not expect him to win this tournament in the first place."

Albedo looks up in surprise. Suddenly, her face that was full of hatred earlier turned into a smile that is full of admiration.

"I see. I think I understand now, my Lord... His defeat was a lesson to us to never underestimate our opponents- similar to the test Your Majesty gave to Cocytus. As expected of Ainz-sama, your foresight humbles me."

Albedo bowed deeply.

The Sorcerer King turned towards Mare.

"Tell him I fully expect him to train himself up to erase the shame of his lost."

"Ye-yes Ains-sama"

"Thank you—Mare."

Wanting to be alone, Ainz commanded;

"Now, you are all dismissed. We must prepare for tommorrow!"

The floor guardians performed their standard gesture of servitute before retiring to the shadows.

"With your leave, My Lord!."

…

…

Ainz remained in the Nazarick viewing room as he sank deep in thought; barely cognizant of the presence of the Eight Edge Assassins standing guard on the ceiling.

Waves of verdant green washed over him as he felt a gnawing pit in his non-existent stomach.

He needed to be alone.

The Overlord of Nazarick looked at this hands.

For the first time in a very long while, they were shaking-

A torrent of emotions have been swirling in his mind ever since the scene at the arena. With each second, they rotated and consumed him.

Joy.

 _Was it them?_

Uncertainty.

What if it was not them?

Fear.

 _What if they were enemies?_

Fright.

 _What is they were hostile?_

Hope.

 _What if it was them?_

For the first time in a very long time, Ainz Ooal Gown was afraid.

The raw cascade of feelings collided and coalesced, leaving even the mighty avatar of death feeling vulnerable and frightened.

…

...

Ainz sat alone on the bench in the quiet room.

The silence only accentuated the tense atmosphere, and for a moment, Ainz could feel the throbbing as blood rushing through his head

The sound of his ears pounding with each beat of his unbeating heart.

The rise and fall of his chest with each forced breath he took.

He felt a trickle run down his forehead.

His lips were quivering.

He knew none of these physical manifestations were real, but nonetheless, he felt them.

His mind returned to the faithful scene; playing it over and over in his head like a broken cassette.

…

…

 _Evileye interrupted._

 _"_ _It cannot be!"_

 _"_ _The only tier two healing potions I've seen are red!"_

 _Ainz's eyes glowed as the mood shifted abruptly._

 _…_

 _…_

The floor guardians had mistaken the change in the mood as the offense taken by Albedo from the distrust and skepticism of Blue Rose adventurers.

But the terrifying, suffocating aura did not originate from the Floor Guardian Overseer.

The smothering, oppressive aura came from Ainz as he contemplated kidnapping and interrogating the young vampire of Blue Rose.

Both Albedo and Demiurge failed to realize the full implications of the small child's outburst.

If Lizzie Bareare, his potion-maker's words were to be trusted-

Red potions were called the "Blood of God".

A relic of the past, their existence was dismissed as a myth.

However, as a player of Yggdrasil, all his healing potions were red.

Ainz was not an idiot. He had his suspicions.

The stories of a red healing potion could only mean one thing.

…

Ainz sat alone on the bench in a quiet room

...

But perhaps he would no longer be alone.

Figures began forming in his head.

A man in a brilliant white armor with a huge sapphire embedded in its chest, radiating a pure and divine light.

 _Touch Me, are you here too, my friend?..._

A fallen seraph with four majestic wings and a bird-like mask, along with the hands and feet of an eagle.

 _Peroroncino, that red book...you sly bastard..._

An odd-looking pink elder slime who enjoyed quarrelling with her brother.

 _Bukubukuchagama, what will you say when you meet Aura and Mare?..._

A black ooze that left a messy, gooey trail and a body that rolled and writhed continuously, never staying in one shape for more than a second.

 _Hero-hero, you stayed with me till the end..._

A Lovecraftian-like creature with the head of a distorted octopus, cowered in crooked text tattoos and a black cloak with silver accessories.

 _Tablua Smaragdina, your daughter, Albedo, is absolutely beautiful..._

A humanoid figure composed purely of glowing green vines who enjoyed looking up at the night sky.

 _Blue-Planet... there are so many stars here at night..._

 _I think you would like it._

…

Ainz ruminated on the implications of additional red potions, and even the heartless, bloodless, soulless Overlord found himself clutching unto hope.

...

"Are you all in here, somewhere, as well?"

-I have a box of jewels here for all of you.

...

Strength renewed, Ainz stood up.

His thoughts lingered on Evil Eye, the masked magic caster of Blue Rose.

"I should speak with her, and get her to tell me everything she knows-"

...

"Perhaps it is time for Momon to make an appearance."


	23. The monster under the bed Ch1

The great hallways of Nazarick were lined with lush red carpets brushed with fine gold embroidery. Its grey stone walls were draped with banners; white, gold, and crimson. The imposing crest of Ainz Ooal Gown was imprinted on each of them- imparting an irresistible desire for any passerby to salute as they walk past. Warmth flowed through the chilly granite walls, ensuring a consistent, comfortable temperature throughout the passageway.

The halls were empty, and the silence and faint echoes served to complement the grandiosity and accentuate the majesty of the Great Tomb of Nazarick.

A dark warrior strolled down; the clanking of his metal boots muffled by the thick carpet.

Clad in an intricately engraved suit of obsidian black, plate armor that was edged in silver and gold, the dark warrior marched confidently through the halls. A pair of massive greatswords were visible below that person's flowing red cape, while his face was obscured by a full closed helm.

The Hero of E-Rantel walked with a purpose.

He would get the answers he seeked, regardless of the cost.

The Eight Edge assassins scurried on the ceiling above, forever keeping guard for their Lord.

Typically, Ainz required an escort when leaving Nazarick, but he did not want to involve the floor guardians in this sensitive issue. The overall fate of his guildmates, or the Supreme Ones, as his NPC's would call them, was a tenuous issue. Ainz was not interested in discussing or talking about them, and the floor guardians knew better than to push the issue.

It was odd.

They were his closest friends. He loved them, and cherished every item and mementos they left behind.

He valued their time together, but reminiscing was painful. Thinking about them was painful. Talking about them was painful.

Why did they leave?

Ainz knew the answer. It was obvious. They had commitments and were forced to choose between a virtual game or real life. They picked what was important to them.

The choice was clear.

And it hurt.

The dark warrior took the long way up instead of teleporting in order to clear his mind. Walking meditation-a traditional Japanese way to help erase troubling thoughts and focus on the tasks at hand. Exercise increased blood flow and blood pressure. More blood means more energy and oxygen, which makes the brain perform better. It was an old habit of Suzuki Satoru.

[…..]

[...Lord Ainz?]

The dark hero froze.

[My apologies, but we have a problem...]

…

…

It was a [Message] communication.

Ainz was still in the middle of deep contemplation and brooding when he was interrupted.

He recognized the soft, motherly voice. It was from Pestonya Shortcake Wanko, the Head Maid of the Homunculus Maids of the Great Tomb of Nazarick.

-and Ainz was seized with an intense rage.

He did not understand why he was so angry.

 _Was it because I was interrupted?_

Ainz felt the rage twisting inside, and his thoughts flew into turmoil. All that anger came out faster than magma and was just as destructive.

{My apologies, your Majesty.]

[I have news to report that requires your attention.]

With each word Pestonya spoke, Ainz felt the resentment brewing.

Her soft, kind voice only served as fuel for his bitterness.

 _Why am I so angry?_

It was irrational. Ainz clenched his fists and gritted his teeth from the effort to remain silent. His hunched form exuded an animosity that was like acid- burning, slicing, potent.

[…..]

[...Lord Ainz?]

He exploded.

It was the culmination of his frustrations and anger for the last six months since his arrival in the New World.

It represented his bitterness at being the last one remaining in a dying guild.

It represented his exasperation of being abandoned by his friends.

It represented his resentment of always being alone.

It represented his displeasure of having to act calm, collected, and all-knowing in an effort to keep up his image.

He was bitter. He was fed up. Why couldn't he just be himself?

Why can't he get angry? Or sad? Or happy?

The entire hallway was awash in verdant green as Ainz's automated passive triggered repeatedly in an effort to calm him down.

[...Lord Ainz?]

…

…

…

[What is it, Pestonya?!]

The seething venom pierced deep into the fragile maid's heart.

[Why do you bother me?!]

[Are all of you incompentent?!}

[Are you all children? Needing my hand in everything you do?]

[Do I need to mollycoddle your every actions?]

[Can you NPC's not think for yourselves?]

[I should have left with Hero-hero!]

[Why did I stay behind?]

[Why did they LEAVE me behind?]

…

Ainz was bitter.

He was trapped in a game; abandoned by his real friends.

The only ones left to talk to were the in-game NPCs.

Alone... with only pre-programmed AI to speak to.

 _Would people laugh at him?_

A social outcast who was so lonely, he considered NPC's as family.

A virgin at age 30. A wizard, in every sense of the word.

What a pitiful existence; worthy of ridicule and shame.

 _Would they laugh at him?_

…

Ainz was bitter, and he unleashed all of it upon poor Pestonya.

[….]

With a pitiful whimper like a whipped dog, the maid fell silent.

[….]

[….]

[End Message]

…

The black armored warrior was alone once more; standing with a billowing red cloak in a luxuriously decorated hallway, reminded of better times by the emblems of the guild plastered all over the walls.

The guild he and his friends made.

-and their children.

Their beloved creations.

The NPCs made from their blood, sweat, and tears.

Ainz had just disparaged one of his beloved guildmates treasured creations.

The sound of silence reverberated along the empty halls.

White rage gave way to guilt and clarity.

Like a calm sea after a torrential hurricane, Ainz realized his mistake. He was so caught up in the endless cycle of frustration and resentment of being left behind that he forgot that parts of his friends were still here.

Their creations. The NPCs. Their children.

And they were alive. They had personalities. They had likes and dislikes. They had emotions and feelings.

And they loved him unconditionally.

Even the attractive ones.

…

Ainz felt guilty. A stone sank in his non-existent stomach. He was ashamed at his actions.

[Message activate]

[….]

[Pestonya.]

[My apologies. I was...pre-occupied, and let my emotions get the better of me.]

[What was it that required my attention?]

[….]

There was a long pause and whimpering could be heard in the background.

Eventually, she spoke up.

[NOOO MY LLORDD! It waas mmyyy fault. This was my mistake alone. Your Majesty has been kind and patient with all of us, and we are glad to serve the Supreme One!]

[This idiot servant of yours should have known better than to interrupt you]

Although Ainz was not physically in front of her, the skeletal overlord could sense that his servant was currently kneeling and apologizing profusely.

[Pleeeasseee, forgive this one for her insolence!]

[If you wish it, I will do my best to rectify this mistake, and then take my life...so this lowly one will not disappoint you ever again!]

…

[PESTONYA!]

Ainz rose his voice in anger, but this time, for her benefit.

[Enough! I do not wish for you, or any of my precious NPCs of Nazarick to take their own lives.]

Later, in a calm and soothing voice.

[Now...tell me...what has happened?]

Ainz listened to her story, and a dark shadow flashed across his face.

The mood grew darker and darker. His thoughts became turbulent.

[This is certainly a problem.]

His visage marred by a scowl, he commanded:

[Summon Demiurge at once! We need to speak]

…

…

…


	24. The monster under the bed Ch2

**Author note:** For those of you who didn't click "Follow" on the story, I actually updated a new chapter on the same day as the previous one. I know some of you guys missed it, because **chapter 22** had **500 visitors,** but **chapter 23** only has **192**. This is **Chapter 24 folks!**

 **Lesson:** _If you don't want to miss out, please subscribe!_

* * *

 **A few hours ago...somewhere in E-Rantel**

Etten was playing with his two friends, Arvel and Katherine. Whether Ettem was his real name or not was unclear. He had no surname. He remembered little of his parents, but he knew they were no longer amongst the living. Ten years old, he was an orphan taken in by the Sorcerous King. At the moment, he was playing at the central clearing in the dormitory. It was filled with wondrous, otherworldly contraptions.

One of them was a large 'n" shaped metallic structure with a pair of chains hanging down and secured to a wooden plank meant to function as a seat. It was called a 'swing".

Another was a strange construct akin to a large weighing scale. A thin wooden plank was balanced on a fulcrum in the center, and what appeared to be makeshift seats were secured on the far edges of the wooden board. Mistress Pestonya called it a 'see-saw'.

Finally, the favorite amongst the children, was a thing called a 'slide'. A mighty structure, it towered over the other contraptions and rose as high as the second floor. A set of stairs led to the top, where one could 'slide' down a long folded metal sheet down to the ground. One could reach frightening speeds when speeding down the slide.

Fortunately, at the base of the slide was enclosed pit of sand, which cushioned the impact.

A common practice was to build something called a 'sandcastle' at the end of the slide while another child would barrel down the slide to crash against it, often with 'roars' and other monster-like sound effects.

Collectively, Mistress Pestonya called these wonderful structures a playground.

There were many other constructs on the playground, such as a ball pit filled with cloth-wrapped fist-sized balls filled with sand, and a rope bridge.

A similar 'playground' was present outside the orphanage, but it was abandoned due to wear and tear. The new one was much better and made of sturdier materials. Sharp edges were blunted and sanded down, and there was a small watering hole where one could wash off the sand and grime after playing.

However, today, Etten and his friends were not frolicking in the playground with the other children. Rather, the anti-social trio were huddled together at the side of the field in the midst of an increasingly heated debate.

The story of the Pale Lady was well-known amongst the children in the orphanage. No one knew of its origins or who started it, but soon every child knew the story by-heart. In fact, the story had even spread outside the borders of the orphanage and spilled into the city of E-Rantel; courtesy of the children's fortnightly excursions into the city. Mistress Pestonya would often bring them out to meet and socialize with the children in the fortress city twice a month.

Most of the time, the children from the city were quiet and timid. After all, there were skeletons and liches walking around the city like some nightmarish fairy tale! It was unsurprising when they started sharing ghost stories and dark stories. One particularly popular story was the tale of the Pale Lady.

There were many versions of the story.

One spoke of a mother who lost her son in the war, and started to obsessively visit the battlefield day after day calling his name. Eventually, her grief transformed her into an ethereal being, and to this day, she appears after each battle and wanders the fields calling his name. Katse Plains was her new home.

Another spoke of a ghostly woman who wanders the northern marshes, forever seeking her lost daughter. They say she steals children who wander astray, others that her sobbing wail strikes dead all those who hear it. Eventually, she was imprisoned in a frozen crypt along with her sword, the Pale Blade.

There was the tale of the Pale Lady being a menacing ghoul who appeared when a person walked up a flight of stairs backwards while holding a candle and hand mirror, in a darkened house and called her name three times.

Unsurprisingly, Mistress Pestonya had to deal with lot of injuries as people fell backwards while going up the stairs in the orphanage.

Finally, there was a version where the Pale Lady was a young lady who was cursed and horribly disfigured, but with a heart of gold, and whom slowly descended into madness and was ever seeking her children.

There were also variants where the Pale Lady was actually not a lady at all, but a man. He was called the Pale Lady because of how people would turn pale when they saw what was underneath his skirt.

However, Etten was convinced the true Pale Lady was real.

"She doesn't exist, Etten!"

"It's just a story!"

"No, it's not!"

"I am telling you. She is REAL!"

"Come on, that's impossible! You need to grow up and stop believing in fairy tales!"

Etten's face scrunched up at the last statement. It was particularly offensive.

"You're the same age as me!"

"Look. I'm telling you. It's just a made-up story. And why would you think she's here, of all places?!"

Arvel shuffled his feet and fidgeted nervously.

"Well-Brie said she heard her last week. It kept her up all night!"

Katherine replied angrily, "Not that stupid story again! Brie is just 6 years old. She was having a nightmare!"

"-Wooo-…Wooo… You took..my baby..!" Etten whispered in the ghoulish voice his ten-year-old voice could muster.

"Eew! You're creeping me out! Stop it!"

"But wait..whats..this..under my skirt.. it's my d!"

"Ouch! Katherine! Stop! Ouch!—Fine, fine!"

The trio calmed down after several minutes of rough-housing. Etten was still breathing heavily when he continued;

"I'm telling you, she's real! I will prove it!".

"How?!"

"She's downstairs. In that locked room. I just know it!"

"Are you stupid? Why would she be there? That's just a boiler to heat the floors. It's really dangerous and hot inside, and that's why it is locked!"

All the kids knew of the large locked door in the basement.

Constructed with heavy mahogany and oak with steel hinges, it was an imposing structure that would take at least 3 adult men to haul open. Furthermore, it was secured by a very complex looking lock. The only key was in the possession of the owner of the orphanage, Mistress Pestonya.

"You're going to get in trouble again! Didn't she tell you not to mess with that door!"

"Etten is a bad boy-" Arvel chipped in.

"I'm telling the both of you! The door is locked because she's down there! I just know it!"

"Can you even hear what you're saying? That's just complete nonsense! It makes no sense. You're telling me that the Pale Lady is living in our basement? OUR basement?".

Katherine laughed uncontrollably while Etten blushed a deep shade of red which complemented his maroon cotton tunic.

…

…

Fate was kind to him that day as Mistress Pestonya interrupted the trio.

"Ahem-"

"Children-may I introduce, Sir Climb. He's a knight in service of the Princess of the Re-Estize Kingdom, and he would like to take a tour of our lovely house."

Katherine, Arvel, and Etten stood still; stunned. A visitor?!

Immediately, hushed whispers spread like wildfire, and a commotion began.

 _A visitor?!_

 _Was someone about to be adopted?_

 _Maybe...Was it a parent coming to pick up their long-lost child?_

 _Would their friends be taken away?_

Anxiety and uncertainly spread among the children as they studied this imposing white knight.

His armor was caparisoned in silver and gold, but had the color of fresh-fallen snow. It was not needlessly ornate, but embodied a functional beauty. The sigil of the Re-Estize Kingdom was emblazoned on the chest plate, and a broadsword hung on its side. The wearer had straight blond hair cut short in a militaristic crew-cut, and clear blue eyes.

Climb felt it would be offensive to wear his full armor during this visit, so he left his shield, helm, and gauntlets at the inn. After all, he was here strictly for reconnaissance. While he could not be one hundred percent sure of his safety, he assumed that, as a guest and participant in the Tournament of the Sorcerous King, the undead lich's minions would not dare openly attack him without just cause.

Furthermore, he was only here for personal reasons.

As an orphan rescued by Princess Renner, he felt a deep connection to other fellow orphans, and he knew that, with the demise of over one hundred thousand men, there would be many parent-less children.

Of course, he was not here without permission. Tasked with surveying the conditions of the orphanages in the city of E-Rantel by his beloved Princess, he was given the orders to adopt up to five children should he feel they were mistreated. He would have adopted more, but finances were tight, and they wanted to avoid an international incident. If the situation was dire enough, they would attempt a full-scale rescue mission, but only after the conclusion of the tournament.

There were already enough orphans in the Re-Estize Kingdom, and despite attempts by the Princess to push for social reforms, none of them materialized to provide tangible benefits to the parent-less children in the Kingdom.

Still—his mistress, Princess Renner, had secured enough funding for him to rescue and take in five other children should he find them suffering under the undead hands of the Sorcerer King.

Climb gave a silent prayer to his savior. She delivered him from certain death, and gifted him a fulfilling second life while he was dying on the streets. Since then, he had pledged his life and soul to her.

"Good morning, Children. My name is Climb. I am a knight of the Royal Princess Renner. It is nice to meet all of you."

Climb gave a curt bow.

Mistress Pestonya proceeded to introduce the children.

"This is Katherine."

A small girl about ten years old curtsied.

"And this is Arvel and Ettenmoor."

The two boys stared with their mouths agape before a quick nudge from Katherine startled them. They proceeded to bow before the white knight as well.

Mistress Pestonya continued: "We have about one hundred and twelve children in this building. There are over forty rooms in the orphanage, spread over two stories. The kitchen and dining hall is just down this corridor, and there is a basement that functions as a storage room. The furnace downstairs that heats the floors and warms the bath waters. The nursery is downstairs as well."

"Hm—only one hundred and twelve children?"

Out of the 100,000 men and women who perished in the battle of Katse Plains, only 8,000 were from the fortress city of E-Rantel. The rest of the soldiers were conscripted from the other cities and provinces of the Re-Estize Kingdom. Still—Climb had expected more than just one hundred and twelve orphans.

"Well—there are certainly more, but the other children are currently housed in the city; under the care of the widows from the war."

 _War…_

Climb snorted involuntarily.

 _A massacre was a more apt description of the event. Even now, he could hear the terrifying wails of the Lost Young in his dreams._

Ignoring him, Pestonya continued.

"The Sorcerer King re-purposed over twenty houses in the city as accommodations for the widows and orphans from the war. We let the children visit the other orphanages twice a month on a rotating basis while we conduct inspections to make sure everything meets the standards set by the Sorcerer King."

"Lord Ainz feels that the children are the key to the future. After all, who knows when a future 'Momon the Dark Hero' would rise from his citizens."

"As King, his Majesty would like to rule peacefully and re-build the city and adventurer's guild; turning them into 'true' adventurers. For this to work, he has to make sure the needs of his charges are taken care of."

With a sly smile, she said:

"—they look well, don't they? I trust everything so far has been to your satisfaction, Sir Climb?"

Pestonya gestured towards the children.

Climb flushed a bright red.

It was true. They looked well-fed and clothed. It was a far-cry from the stereotypical starving orphans found in the main capital. Shrunken, with a wasted appearance and prominent rib cages, the orphans in the city would sit listlessly until they either died, or were adopted to work in a textile factory or sweatshop. Their physique excluded them from mining work and the military draft.

"-Well…"

"Come now, let us continue with the tour. Let me show you one of the rooms."

Pestonya swept forward, with the white knight in tow.

…

Etten chuckled as he stared at the back of this imposing foreign knight.

Fortune smiled upon him, and he turned to his friends.

"Yes—today would be the day. I will prove to you that the Pale Lady is real!"

…

The dog-eared maid brought him upstairs and into one of the rooms.

At a quick glance, Climb spied several wooden beds with straw mattresses enclosed in a thick cotton cover. Next to each bed was a small table with a wooden chair and a lantern lit by a magical glowing crystal.

At the feet of each bed was a modest looking chest; likely containing the belongings of their respective inhabitant.

Pestonya brought him inside another room.

It was nearly identical except the furnishings were smaller in scale. There was also a thick waxy green, leaf-like sheet on top of each bed. It was massive, and covered the entire bed.

"—Waterproof sheets for the little ones who have yet to outgrow 'accidents' at night." Pestonya commented.

"It's a chore to clean these straw mattresses."

"Candles are only permitted in the rooms of the older children. Most of the rooms are lit by enchanted lanterns."

Climb carefully inspected the rooms. They looked 'lived in'. There were scribbles and marks of innocent vandalism on the wooden desks, and scratch marks where the wooden chairs left a stain on the stone flooring. The beds were made, but showed signs of being slept in. Some trunks were open, while others were locked tightly.

There were two windows on each room, but they faced inwards towards the central clearing. This meant that no one could look inside from outside the building, and vice versa.

"The kitchen and dining hall is this way-"

Pestonya went down the end of the corridor and walked downstairs.

As Climb followed her, he sensed the gaze of the children drilling into him. However, whenever he tried to meet their eyes, they hastily looked away. Some of them even started tailing him from behind, darting behind the doors and hiding inside the rooms whenever Climb turned around.

 _Did they think he would not notice?_

Climb smiled as he went downstairs and into the dining hall.

It was a separate wing from the rest of the building, and consisted of a several large dining tables with many small chairs. There was a large cart where Climb assumed the dirty dishes were deposited in after meals. Oddly enough, there were rows and rows of bookcases lining the hall.

"We use this hall for teaching and studying during off-hours". Pestonya quipped.

There were several doors at the end of the hall that were locked.

"I'm sorry, but we lock the doors to the kitchen. We don't want the children to hurt themselves with the knives, or burn themselves while playing with the oven."

Climb nodded approvingly.

"Let's go back to the main building, and head down to the basement."

…

In contrast to the brightly lit main floor, the basement was dark and dreary. Unexpectedly, the air was warm and dry rather than moldy and humid. There was a work-bench with multiple broken bed-frames propped up against the wall, along with desks that were missing legs or chairs that sat uneven on the ground.

There was a treasure trove of books and writing utensils on the far side of the wall, while sacks of grain, potatoes, seeds, and bundles of straw were stored in the corner.

At the far left, there was an imposing mahogany door that looked quite out of place.

Climb felt his gaze linger on the ominous door.

"Ah- you noticed. That's where the furnace and boiler is kept. We decided to keep it locked because it is not a place for the children to play in. The little ones like to wander—you see.".

Pestonya pointed to another door next to it.

"That's where the nursery is, but the young ones are sleeping now, so I would prefer not to wake them."

"— and that concludes our tour. Now let's go upstairs to meet the children. I'm sure you have noticed them trailing after you for a while now."

As soon as he reached the top of the stairs leading out of the basement, he was greeted by the sight of a beaming young boy in a maroon-red shirt. The boy had crystal clear blue eyes and a wide grin. He seemed to be breathing heavily as he looked up at the white knight.

"Hi! My name is Etten. Nice to meet you!"

…

Climb waited for further introductions. An uneasy silence followed.

"—Just Etten?"

…

"Huh?"

Pestonya picked up on the hint, and explained.

"Most of the children here don't have surnames. Many of them have forgotten their family names, and to ensure everyone fits in, we encouraged everyone to take on new names."

Climb was not wholly surprised.

Himself not having a family name, he understood why many orphans lacked a surname; either to hide the shame of their lineage in the case of nobles having bastard sons and daughters, or discarded purposefully to spite the parents that abandoned them.

Still—these children should have been orphaned due to the war, and should not have forgotten their family names.

Behind the strange boy in the red shirt, a group of children of varying sizes and ages began forming. They talked among-st each other in hushed whispers, all the while sneaking covert glances at the white knight.

Suddenly, a boy grabbed Climb's hand, and dragged him towards the crowd.

"Come! Come meet the rest!"

Defeated, Climb reluctantly allowed himself to be guided by the young child.

Behind him, the dog-eared maid grinned.

"I will leave you to play with the children, Sir Climb. If you would excuse me—"

She then disappeared into the main building.

…

"Are you a real knight?"

"Are you strong?"

"Why did you come here, Sir Knight? Are you here to adopt one of us?"

"…."

"Did you go into the basement? What's down there? Mistress Pestonya said we aren't allowed downstairs"

"Can you tell us about the capital?"

"What's going on in the city. There are a lot of new people lately!"

"Did you fight in the tournament? Can you tell us more about it?"

Climb was bombarded with questions, and struggled to answer them all. Inside, he felt intense reprieve. He let out a loud relieved sigh. It seems the orphans were well-taken care of, after all. He had already forgotten the purpose of his visit; to rescue the children.

The white knight spent over two hours mingling and chatting with the children. Soon, even the shy kids joined in while Climb told stories of his exploits and about life in the Kingdom and the current events in E-Rantel. They were shocked to hear that Climb was one of the contestants in the tournament.

However, most of his stories centered around his idol, Princess Renner. Climb felt he could go on for hours and hours with regaling tales of his beloved.

When the crowd heard that Climb was not about to adopt them, they breathed a collective sigh.

Whether it was one of disappointment or relief, he was not sure.

Eventually, the children got bored, and began to disperse one by one.

 _Short attention spans, huh?_

Finally, only the strange boy with the maroon-red shirt remained. Throughout the two hours, the young man remained silent and soaked up every word Climb had to say. His piercing, analytical stare was uncomfortable.

It seemed to Climb that the young boy was judging him, although the terms and conditions eluded him.

The staring contest ended when the boy spoke up.

"-Have you heard of the Pale Lady?"

…

…

'Who?"

"The Pale Lady! You don't know her?".

Climb racked his brain at the term. There was a tale of a wispmother called the Pale Lady who slumbered deep in Frostmere Crypt, but that was merely a creature of legend in the frozen tundra of the North.

"I'm sorry, Etten. I am not familiar with the term."

"Oh-" The young boy was disappointed.

…

"HEY, DO YOU WANT TO PLAY HIDE-AND-SEEK?!"

Climb's eyes burned in agony as the young boy tossed a fistful of sand in his eyes. Struggling to clear the grit and tears, he spied a maroon shadow darting into the basement.

"Ugh!"

"Wait!"

Climb struggled to follow while fiercely blinking the sand out of his eyes, but his heavy armor reduced his sprint to a clumsy stumble.

 _That little brat is fast!_

Cautiously walking down the stairs to the basement, Climb called out for Etten.

"HEY!"

"Hey Kid!"

"It's dangerous to be in here!"

"I'm not playing anymore!"

"Hey Kid!"

The basement was dark and lit only by the scant magical lanterns hanging off the walls. With the boxes, broken bedposts, mismatched desks and chairs, along with stacks of books and bookshelves, it was a treasure trove of hiding spots. The shadows also encircled over half the room, making it very difficult to find a small child if they chose to conceal themselves.

Climb debated asking for assistance from Pestonya, then decided against it.

It would look bad on him.

A stain on his pride.

He started rummaging through the desks; taking care to peer underneath each one.

Every minute or so, he would call out the young boy's name.

Then, Climb searched the piles of books and under the bookshelves, moving in a systemic approach in a clockwise pattern. Considering the child ran into the basement without a hint of hesitation, he must have a pre-planned hiding spot that he was extremely proud of.

"Etten!"

"Come out!

"It's dangerous to be in here!"

Finally, Climb came upon the only two doors in the basement.

He first tried opening the door to the nursery, but it was locked shut.

Then he approached the large, imposing door that lead to the furnace room. As he walked towards it...

"Cruncchh!."

Climb felt something snap underneath his steel boots.

Curious, he picked it up and examined it under the poor lighting.

It was an odd device made of wood and iron. There was a small cylindrical stick with metal wire bent around it at odd angles. He could see where the wood was shaved to reveal grooves and notches. Because he had stepped on it, the bizarre contraption was snapped in two.

Suddenly, Climb panicked.

 _A key?!_

 _A makeshift key?!_

 _Impossible?!_

But-

Climb rested his palm on the door and gave a slight push.

-and to his horror, the door gave way.

It was unlocked!

Terrifying scenes flooded his head as he felt his heart beat faster and faster. Beads of sweat fell from his brow. His throat felt tight, and it became difficult to breath. There was a knot forming in his stomach.

Without thinking, he pushed harder on the door, willing it open.

It was heavier than he thought.

Using both hands, he shoved with all his might, and opened the door about a third of the way through.

Climb felt warm air blow across his face as a red-orange light spilled from the gap.

Soon...he realized his folly.

...

...

 _There's no way the boy could have gone through this door!_

Even with his prodigious strength, Climb had only managed to push open the door with about a two feet gap.

 _That means!_

Climb's worst fear came through when a maroon-tinged blur materialized from the shadows and sprinted through the gap.

"Thank you!"

Climb felt his face flush in anger and embarrassment.

He had been played-

-by a ten year old child.

…

...

With a final shove, Climb managed to open the door enough to slide his bulky armor inside. He was confronted with a red inferno.

There was a large iron furnace with massive vents that reached to the ceiling and across the main floor, heating the floor above it. It was likely powered by magic, as there were no coals lying around nor personnel feeding the fire. The flickering red flames sent dancing shadows across the room.

At the end of the room was another set of double doors, and Climb found the object of his annoyance.

…

...

Etten clawed at the door in frustration.

 _This isn't supposed to be here!_

He struggled to open the door, but despite using his full strength, his child-like physique only forced the door about two centimeters open, revealing only darkness behind the door.

Clank!

Clank!

Clank!

Etten could feel the palpitations of his throbbing heart as the sound of Climb's heavy metal boots got louder and louder.

Clank!

Clank!

Sweat oozed out of every pore as he strained himself against the heavy door.

Clank!

Clank!

...

Silence.

...

Etten knew the absence of footsteps could only mean one thing.

…..

Pain ran across his arse as he felt himself lifted up by the scruff of his pants. He felt the fabric dig deep into his skin.

Ouch! Oww!- Let go of me!

He squirmed helplessly as he was hoisted into the air.

Slowly, he rotated and came face to face with his caretaker.

Clad in a white armor decorated with silver and gold, the man sported straight blond hair cut short in a military crew-cut. He was panting and sweating from exhaustion. His clear blue eyes held a furious light as their eyes met.

"You-are-in-big-trouble-young-man-"

Etten closed his eyes; afraid of a slap that would follow.

After realizing that no strike was incoming, the young boy relaxed.

"Explain yourself"—Climb said flatly.

"I was looking for the Pale Lady!"

…

An uncomfortable silence followed as Climb facepalmed.

"She's inside! I'm telling you!"

Climb started to walk back to the entrance with the little boy in tow.

"Look! Even if you take me back, I'm just going to come down here again."

"Tell you what! If you let me peek inside, I promise to never come down here again!"

Climb paused and deliberated the situation.

"—Fine".

Etten couldn't believe his luck.

Letting the boy down, Climb walked back towards the double doors and gave it a slight push.

He was greeted with the smell of death.

...

It was a nauseating scent; carrying the pronounced tones of decomposition and human waste and excrement. It assaulted his nostrils and caused him to scrunch up his face in disgust.

As the light shined from the furnace room into the dark hallway beyond the doors, Climb was presented with a horrifying sight.

Bodies.

A pile of bodies.

A pile of small dead babies, haphazardly thrown in the corner like discarded waste.

And the origin of the rotting stench became clear.

"—the Basement".

"Why is it—ALWAYS—the basement"

Climb reached for his sword and drew it from his scabbard. The silver sword glistened and flickered in the light of the red flames emanating from the furnace behind him.

As a city knight, he had participated in several raids on stores and houses used as fronts for seedier business practices. In every instance, there would be a brothel underneath an unassuming bar, or a smugglers den underneath a storage facility. There would be slave markets underneath orphanages, or private torture rooms underneath nobleman houses.

"-always—in the BASEMENT."

From the time he entered the orphanage, Climb had been suspicious.

The children were healthy, well-fed, and unharmed.

It was too good to be true.

A secret slaughterhouse...where humans were sacrificed like sheep.

Climb knew that the blood of innocent children were often used in sacrificial rituals for summoning the creatures of darkness. It was the presumed reason the demon Jaldabaoth kidnapped those children from the capital. The younger, the better. The bones and skulls were powerful artifacts in summoning the dead and bargaining with devils. It seems the undead were not too different from demons, after all.

His blood boiled.

 _Curse that Sorcerer King!_

Climb's worst fear was realized. By taking over the fortress city of E-Rantel, the undead Lich had secured himself a reliable supply of human sacrifices for his heinous magic.

He pushed open the door all the way, and strolled inside, completely forgetting the young boy next to him.

Climb pulled out a small crystal from his pocket and whispered words of power. The amulet began to shine with a faint white glow, illuminating a path before him. As he strode forward, he detected a soft, high pitched cry. Barely audible, it seemed to originate from the pitch darkness ahead.

Climb strained to hear the noise. Soon, it became more pronounced, and he recognized it for what it was. It was the desperate cry of an infant.

 _There's still one alive down there!_

Panicking, Climb charged forward; sword in hand.

…

...

Deep in the recesses of the dark, foreboding hall, a malevolent figure stirred. Grotesque. Ugly. Festering. Disfigured. The creature went to soothe one of her charges when she sense the intruders. They smelled like humans. One of them was armed with a weapon. She could detect the pheromones in the air. It was hostile. They meant her harm.

Slowly, she made her way towards the trespassers.

With each stride, she felt her paranoia grow.

 _Were they here to kill her?_

 _Were they here to kill her children?_

 _Her children?_

 _Her babies?_

 _Wait_ — _where are her babies?_

 _What happened to them?_

 _They were just here._

 _Did the intruders take them?_

 _It's wrong._

 _No, it's wrong._

 _Why would they take her children?_

 _Her babies._

 _Why?_

 _Why?_

 _Why?_

The creature began speeding up as her madness grew.

 _Where are they?_

 _It's wrong_

 _Where are her children?_

She started rambling on and on and eventually broke into a full sprint.

Finally, she came face to face with the intruders, and deep inside, they knew.

They had stumbled upon an avatar of madness and decay.

And they despaired.

…

…

Frightening. Terrifying. Grotesque. Deformed. Perverted. Monstrous. Unnatural.

None of those words could accurately convey the true hideousness of the creature that appeared before Climb and Etten.

His knuckles turned white and blood drained from his face as it contorted in abject horror.

A terror as overwhelming as anything Climb had ever felt filled him suddenly. A tightness formed in his chest, sending jolts of pain throughout his body. His chest was burning as if on fire. He was suffocating-because he was too terrified to even breath.

Panic seized him. He would die a pitiful death. He would die from being utterly paralyzed with fear.

A warm feeling flowed down his leg; bringing him to his senses.

The sudden heat was soothing, and calmed his hysteria.

Yes—Climb had wet himself, and it saved his life.

"Etten!"

"Etten!"

"Etten! Stand behind me!"

Climb glanced to his side, and saw that the boy was similarly frozen in fear.

The creature was rapidly gaining momentum, and would be upon them in seconds. The monstrosity had pale skin that glistened under the faint light emanating from Climb's crystal. As she drew closer, Climb could finally discern her features; and it tormented his dreams even year afterwards.

Ink-like, black hair hung messily across her shoulders.

Skin as pale as white ash; drained of all blood.

A dark dress as black as night.

Blood stained fingers.

Teeth and eyes, but no lips or eye lids.

And most terrifying of all; an unending cry of nonsensical words.

"It's wrong, it's wrong, it's wrong, it's wrong...my baby, my baby, my baby-! You, you, you, you, took, took, took, took, my baby, my baby, my baby, my baby-!"

Climb spied a glint of metal as it reflected the white light radiating from his amulet.

No!

With super-human reflexes, Climb rushed towards Etten and knocked him away as hard as he could. The impact from the collision undid the paralysis and startled the young boy in the maroon shirt.

Etten flew several meters and crashed into a pile of corpses at the side.

The dreadful creature was upon them.

You, you, you, you, took, took, took, took, my baby, my baby, my baby, my baby-! Give it back! Back! Back! Back!"

Strengthening his resolve, Climb chanted; [Ability Boost] [Evasion] [Focus Fighting Power] [Strengthen Perception]

And finally….

[Limit Breaker]

His trump card.

A Martial Art unique to Climb, it's effect was to remove all limits imposed on the body by the brain. Therefore, all his abilities would then increase by another level, including his physical ones. The only downside to this effect was that if he used it for an extended period, it would cause physical fatigue and muscle tearing.

The skill was a gift he learnt by braving the killing intent of Sebas Tian

Five martial arts at the same time.

Climb was also wearing an armor made of an amalgam of mithril and orichalcum; a gift from his beloved Princess. Her lovely visage was the last thing on his mind as he charged forward.

[High Vertical Strike]

It was a powerful strike taught to him by Gagaran back in the inn's backyard in the Re-Estize capital, before the invasion from Jaldabaoth. The move was especially effective on opponents who did not seem like they would evade.

Climb gained a foothold, twisted, and swung with all his might at the charging monster.

There was a booming sound of wind and the sound barrier breaking apart. The very air was cut in a vertical line, cleaving everything in two.

For a moment, the room was silent.

All of a sudden, Climb roared in pain. His shoulder throbbed with agony, and he reflexively dropped his sword. He felt a warm, sticky liquid flow down his arm.

He bent over in pain; his useless arm hanging limply at his side.

The reprieve was short-lasting, however.

His body convulsed in pure agony as the monster's unnatural blade pierced his mithril and orihalcum armor. One of the sturdier metals known in the world; cut through like paper.

…

Etten stared in complete horror at the situation.

 _What have I done?_

 _Is this the Pale Lady?_

 _How could this be happening?_

 _Is this all my fault?_

The young boy gawked at the surreal scene.

...

With the creature standing over the fallen knight, her features became clearer under the bloodstained light crystal hanging off Climb's neck.

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab. Stab.

...

The monster was viciously stabbing the white knight…with a pair of scissors.

She struck with such ferocity that blood spurted out like a fountain, and bits and pieces flew and handed on Etten's face. Like a frustrated child using a knife to open a tin can, Climb's white armor was full of holes, and soon his body was entirely unrecognizable; his torso simply hamburger meat.

...

Throughout this vicious, senseless assault, the creature continuously cried out for her baby.

Etten could smell the nauseatingly sweet and pungent odor of rust.

The young boy knew he was next.

Involuntarily backing away, he felt something hard press against his hand. It was smooth and cold, and somehow…felt hollow.

He tapped the pile of bodies he was sitting on to confirm.

Indeed, it felt...odd.

Were they truly the skulls and bones of the unfortunate children who fell prey to that dreadful monstrosity?

Despite the gruesome sight unfolding before him, the young boy picked up one of the corpses and inspected it.

He struggled to comprehend what he was seeing.

A doll?!

What is a doll doing here?!

What…is going on?!

And a revelation appeared before him. He finally remembered.

….

The most popular version of the tale of the Pale Lady went like this:

Once upon a time, back in the time immemorial, there lived powerful gods. To amuse themselves, the gods would compete and argue against each other in contests of strength, speed, and ideology. Their words shook mountains, and split the seas. The earth trembled in their battles, and the heavens split apart when they worked together against a common enemy.

Each god had a unique appearance and personality; most of them grotesque and terrifying to behold if viewed with mortal eyes. One particular god was humanoid with a head resembling that of a distorted octopus, covered with crooked text tattoos. He has two pupil-less, blue-white murky eyes and his skin color is deathly pale like a corpse. He wore a black cloak decorated with silver accessories and several loosely-fitted belts.

One day, the gods had a debate.

Could you judge a book by its cover?

Is personality or appearance more important?

Is what's on the inside that counts, or what is outside?

And this god decided to test it out, and created a child.

She was a beautiful young lady, and had pale, fair skin and gorgeous black hair. She had luscious blue eyes and pearly white teeth. Her figure was slim, and her body was toned.

But where there were eyes, there was no eyelids.

And where they were ivory white teeth, there was no lips.

And where there was a flawless complexion, there was no skin on her face.

In a cruel twist, the god gave his child a heart of gold. She was compassionate. She loved the innocent. She was kind. She cared for humans, beasts, elves, and all the lower-tier races. She had a particularly soft spot for children.

The other gods then each made a child of their own, and gave them beauty incomparable, but filled their hearts with pride and ingrained a sense of superiority over the mortal-kin. Their children were alluring and dazzling beyond comparison, and brimmed with utter indifference towards those they considered inferior.

However, when the other gods beheld the young lady, they were horrified and tried to attack her on sight.

Eventually, they confined her to an underground basement where she spent many long years alone in the pitch-black darkness. Eventually, she took a name that meant "Blackness" in the old tongue. Her fair skin became paler and paler.

It was said that her madness began then.

In her abject loneliness, she started to make baby dolls. Eventually, her mental health deteriorated, and she started talking to these artificial children as if they were hers. Thus, the young lady began to have seizure-like episodes where she would break down and fly into madness. The only way to calm her down was to present her with a doll.

Then one day, the Pale Lady was freed.

It was said that she had unfathomable power and strength, and would often appear and defend innocent children and infants against those who meant them harm. But they cast her away, and hurled insults and stones. They could not accept her terrifying form.

With her madness ever growing, she hid herself away.

Yet, it was rumored even after all this time, she was determined to prove that her master was right—that you cannot judge a book by its cover, and that inner kindness was more important than external appearances.

—and that's how the story went.

It was a morally complex story, and spawned endless debates amongst the children. Who was right? Was there such a thing as a nice monster? –and so forth.

To them, it seemed that adults wrote this story to teach them a lesson on morality and to challenge common dogmas; akin to popular fables such as 'The boy who cried Goblins!' and the 'Seven dwarfs".

But it was real.

And truly, she was terrifying…but…

Etten grabbed the doll, and ran to the creature.

Trembling, he stretched out his hands and handed her the doll.

"H-ereee…Here…is iit…is..y-your…your baby!"

And Nigredo finally calmed down and realized in horror what she had done.

.

.

.

* * *

Let me know what you guys think about the last few chapters! Remember, more reviews and advice = better stories

The next chapter is coming..make sure to follow so you don't miss it!

This is my makeshift volume 10.5 of the overlord series =)


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